


Traced in Constellations

by ladyofsoleil



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: AU Eric, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mentions of Rape Culture and Sexual Assault, Mentions of Suicide and Depression, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:43:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 97,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofsoleil/pseuds/ladyofsoleil
Summary: Indigo Jagger never expected to receive Dauntless on her aptitude test, nor did she expect to be told she is Divergent. Now in a faction where fitting in is the difference between life and death, she must find a way to blend in, pass initiation, and stay alive. If only a certain Dauntless leader didn’t have his eye on her… Cross-posted on FFN





	1. The Test

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! I don’t have much to say, since this is only the first chapter, but I’d like to remind everyone that this is an Eric/OC story. Eric will be less of a dick than he is in the books and movies (let’s be real, he wouldn’t be Eric if he wasn’t just a little bit of a dick). I’m well aware that he’s not acting canonically. You’ve been warned. Happy reading and (hopefully, please) reviewing!

The first few rays of the rising sun peaked up over the horizon, bathing the orchards in a warm golden glow. The fields were empty now, the early-morning harvest postponed to allow dependents a rare morning to sleep late, but no less beautiful. The only people I could see awake were in the dome preparing breakfast, but the grounds were otherwise deserted. I'd known nothing but this place all my life and I could not fathom the thought of leaving it all behind.

Today was my testing day. It was all at once the best and worst day for all the dependents of this city. Deep down, I know that I am not made for Amity. To stay would make my mother enormously happy, but it would leave me restless and miserable. As for where I do belong, I haven't a clue.

I don't think I would like Candor much. Honesty is important, but it has a hefty price. The truth can do more damage than a gun in some ways and I would never wish to harm another. I've heard rumors, mostly from Candor dependents, that initiates must take truth serum. The idea of laying it all out there, every secret thought and feeling, for everyone to hear sounds like my worst nightmare.

I could see myself succeeding in Erudite. I've always enjoyed learning new things in school and I'm sure I could find a subject to really lose myself in at Erudite. But, the Erudite must be objective. I have great empathy for those suffering and I could not rely upon myself to put my feelings aside.

Abnegation would be the option most similar to Amity, but different enough for it to be a change. I could lose myself in helping others and I would be lying if I said I'd never wanted to escape my own mind at times. Yet I was raised to celebrate life, proudly and loudly. I fear the Abnegation would find me too wild and work to suppress it.

In Dauntless, I would find a different kind of wild. They, too, celebrate life proudly and loudly because the intensity of their duty takes a toll. There is a certain appeal to the recklessness they balance with the great responsibility. I cannot help but hesitate to pick Dauntless as I fear I would not be strong enough for the warrior faction. To cause harm to another because of my own weakness is unacceptable.

“Indigo! What are you doing up there?” My mother shouted from below, startling me. I looked down at her from my perch in the tree, heart aching at the sight of her carefree smile.

After my father died, she'd been a mess. She didn't leave her bed for days, not even crying just staring blankly up at the ceiling like it might hold all the answers. I'd spent a few hours doing just that, wondering if some sign telling me how to get my mother out of bed would ever come. It didn't, but Johanna did.

She came to express her condolences a week later, having allowed her the customary private grieving time. She thought she might find a heartbroken window and her child. Instead, she found a practically comatose woman confined to her bed and a crying child. She called for the doctors specializing in the mind to come and bring her to their hospital for help. She took me in for those months, caring for me like the daughter she was never able to have.

Once my mother was deemed fit to function normally and raise a child, she was sent back to Amity and I to our family home. Johanna still dropped by on occasion, bringing sweets and a shoulder to cry on. I would always be grateful to her for the kindness she showed, but it was nice to have my mother back. Which is why it made it so hard to leave.

"Just thinking." I replied, climbing back down to the earth. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

"I'll always worry about you, I'm your mother. But I did see your note, so I was less worried." She slipped an arm around my shoulders as she led the way to the dome for breakfast. "Are you excited for your test?"

"Yeah." I smiled, trying to reassure her, but she did not look convinced.

"Indigo, I may not be Candor, but I know when you're lying."

"I am excited, I'm just..."

"Scared?"

"Yes. Were you? For your test?"

"Not scared, no. I was nervous, but I felt at peace with taking the test. Deep down, I'd always known that I belonged in Amity. I think everyone knows where they belong, deep down, even if they don't want to admit it." Though no words passed between us, the look on her face told me all that I needed to know: she knew. She knew that I didn't belong here, I never had. But where did she think I belonged?

I didn't dare to ask, though. The Amity may not be big on lying, but there are just some things we don't discuss. So instead I smile, pretend everything is all right, and grab each of us a plate.

* * *

After lunch I sit on the floor in the cafeteria with some of the other Amity girls. We're playing a game we always played as children involving hand slapping and a rhyming song. I've never been particularly fond of it, but it's a good distraction from the test.

I see a table full of Erudites glaring down at us for disturbing their reading. The Candor seem to be having a lively debate with one another, but it doesn't look too serious. The Dauntless are laughing and shouting as they play some card game I've never seen. The Abnegation all sit quietly, not speaking and not looking at one another. I notice a blond girl in grey watching us curiously, but without the same expression of annoyance as the rest of her faction. I silently wonder if she's also going to transfer.

I startle when the Abnegation volunteer re-enters the room, calling out ten more names. Two Abnegation, three Dauntless, a Candor, an Erudite, and three Amity—including myself—all rise. We follow her into a hallway full of doors as she sends us in one at a time.

When I enter the room I am taken aback by the wall-to-wall mirrors. The Amity are nowhere near as opposed to mirrors as the Abnegation, but I've never seen so many in one place. I can't help but smooth out my gauzy yellow skirt, fidgeting around in my red blouse. I tuck a lock of my long auburn hair behind my ear, suddenly struck by how much I resemble my mother.

"Hello." The Abnegation volunteer interrupts, an amused smile on her face. She looks familiar, can't be no more than five years older than me. I wonder if she transferred from Amity, but I do not dare to ask. "My name is Emily, I will be administering your aptitude test. Please take a seat in the chair."

I do as she says, reclining back as I take a deep breath. She begins to place electrodes on my face, eyes flitting back and forth between me and the computer. Neither of us say a word until she pulls out a vial full of clear liquid, extending it to me.

"You're going to drink this to begin the test. From there, you'll receive further instructions." I nod, taking the vial and tipping it back. I suddenly begin to feel sleepy and I can feel myself beginning to fade. "Good luck, Indigo. I hope you find where you belong."

Then everything goes black.

* * *

 

I come to with a strangled gasp, swinging wildly as I feel arms holding me down. I relax once I recognize Emily, though I can feel my heartbeat pick back up at the tense look on her face. She moves quickly, removing electrodes and frantically typing something into the computer.

"What? What is it?"

"You need to listen to me very carefully." She says, not looking up from her computer once. "You're going to tell them that you feel sick and you need to go home early. I'm going to manually enter your results as Amity—"

"Don't." I say, surprising both of us. "I mean, what are my results?"

"Indigo," She pauses, hesitant, "do you know what it means to be divergent?"

"Divergent?" I repeat, bewildered. "What's that?"

"Divergents are people who don't fit in to one faction."

"So I'm factionless?" I ask, unable to mask the note of panic in my voice.

"No, no, but you cannot ever tell anyone what you are. Divergents don't have an aptitude for one faction, they have an aptitude for many."

"So what am I?"

"You're Amity...and Dauntless. You have the aptitude to succeed in either faction, but you need to pick the one that can keep you safest. I'm not convinced that you would be safe in Dauntless."

"Amity won't protect me either." I insist, my mind going a million miles a minute. "The Amity are neutral. If the wrong people come looking for me, they won't stand in their way. At least in Dauntless I'll have a chance of protecting myself."

"You cannot tell anyone. Ever." She relents after a moment, deleting where she'd typed Amity and writing Dauntless. "If you tell the wrong person, you'll be dead in an instant."

"I understand." I promise her. She pauses, then surprises me when she pulls me into a tight hug.

"Stay safe, Indigo." Then, without another word, she pushes me out the door into the hallway.

I do as she said, finding the nearest Abnegation volunteer and telling them I felt sick. She agreed to notify the school, sending me out to catch the bus. I'm relieved to find my mother is still at work when I arrive home, not yet ready to face her.

By the time dinner rolled around, I'd managed to compose myself. When she asked about the test, I told her it went well and then quickly changed the subject. Now as we sit eating dinner together in the dome, for the last time, I feel at peace.

If I stayed, I would be putting us both in danger. More than that, she's happy now. I don't have to worry about her falling apart again, she has more friends than she knows what to do with and a stable job. She'll be just fine when I leave.

I watch as she chats with Jax, a man who works in the infirmary. She's smiling coyly, laughing at something he's just said. I miss her already, but I'm not worried.

I love Amity, I do. I'm so grateful that I was taught to be kind. I'm glad for the joy that my faction has encouraged me to embrace. I love that I come from a faction where everyone has a voice in the government. Where every person's life has value and forgiveness is readily given. I only wish it was the place for me.

I feel like a puzzle piece that just won't fit. I see the value of staying neutral, but it's the easy way out and it can hurt others. Kindness in the right amount makes you a good person, kindness in too large a dose makes you a doormat.

I am no longer an Amity, but I'm grateful that I was.

"You know, I think the founders made a mistake." My mother says to me later that night as we sit in our apartment, side by side on the windowsill. "We like to pretend that our faction is the best and our value is the most important. But every faction's values are important in equal amounts. Everyone should be kind and honest and smart and selfless and brave."

Silently, I wonder if I should tell her the truth. That I'm not just one thing, I'm more. But I know how dangerous this is and I would hate to put her in any danger. The less she knows, the better.


	2. Leap of Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m delighted by the positive responses I’ve gotten on this story :) I hope you’re all as excited as I am to see where this goes! Happy reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

The Hub looms over us as we stand at its base, mere mortals looking up to Mount Olympus. It's a reference I heard an Erudite classmate once make, unaware of its meaning until now. My mother grasps my hand, mistaking my awe for nerves, and leads us into the building with the rest of the city. We step into the elevator after an Abnegation man and his family exit, heading for the stairs. Typical Abnegation, inflicting suffering upon themselves for the good of others.

We take our seats with the rest of Amity as we enter the room, an oddly subdued sea of red and yellow. I wonder if the bread had an extra dose of something special, but I do not dare voice this thought aloud. I feel calm, at peace with my decision to leave my faction; though that could be the bread talking.

Marcus Eaton enters the room shortly after to begin the ceremony. The disdain in his eyes is clear as he impatiently waits for the Dauntless to quiet themselves down. He begins to speak about the history of the ceremony and its purpose, his voice so dull I struggle to pay him any attention.

I stop listening, tuning back in only when "Madison Zimmer" of Candor is invited up to choose. I'm not surprised when she slices her hand over the bowl for Candor as many dependents choose to stay in their faction of origin. The pattern continues on, one by one, as each dependent is called up to select their faction. I recognize some of the names, nearly all from Amity, but most are unfamiliar.

I start listening when "Caleb Prior" is called, knowing him to be the son of the Abnegation leader Andrew Prior. We'd been in a few classes and I'd seen him in passing in the halls. I don’t know much about him, but he always seemed like the ideal Abnegation. So I know I’m not alone in my shock as he slices his hand and his blood lands in water, not stones.

"Beatrice Prior" is called next and I watch as a blonde girl dressed in gray stands. I recognize her as the Abnegation girl who watched us yesterday and I wonder if I was right. I can't help but mentally high-five myself when her blood sizzles over the coals of Dauntless.

The ceremony drags on, feeling as though there is an infinite amount of letters between P and J. Once Harvey Jensen of Erudite chooses to stay in his faction of origin, I perk up knowing that I am next. I'm up out of my seat before Marcus can finish saying "Indigo Jagger," ignoring the mocking look in his eyes.

I chance one final glance back to my mother, the slight nod of her head not going unnoticed. I turn back to pick up the knife, slicing a shallow cut across my palm before I squeeze it over the Dauntless coals. The whole section erupts into wild cheers and I beam as I make my way towards them, finally feeling like I belong.

I find myself pushed into a seat beside Beatrice Prior, the two of us sharing a warmly bewildered smile. I feel an instant kinship with her, the two of us from factions unlikely to make it into Dauntless. I hope that we both pass, giving us a chance to prove the other factions wrong. I've always thought there is enormous strength in kindness and selflessness. I just hope I'm right.

* * *

Once the last person has chosen their faction, we're dismissed. The Dauntless are first to rise, breaking into a sprint once we reach the stairs. I'm able to keep pace easily, having spent my childhood running around the fields each day. We run until we reach the train tracks and proceed to climb the poles like trees, reaching the top in no time at all.

I turn at the sound of the train whistle, watching a handful of Dauntless jump on before I try it myself. My height assists me as I glide into the train, stumbling only a little. I can see a few of the members watching me curiously, hopefully impressed by how well I did on my first try.

I keep to myself, shuffling through the crowd until I reach the other side of the car where it's secluded. I don't regret my choice to transfer, at least not yet anyway, but it doesn't mean I'm not still in a bit of shock. I try not to think of my mother, who is surely riding the bus back to Amity—alone. Instead, I take a deep breath and look around at the members of my new faction.

A man with a metal ring through his nose, an intricate pattern of lines tattooed all the way down his right arm, and a metal ball on his tongue stands nearest to me. A woman with bright purple hair, a heart tattooed on her cheek, and a collection of hoops traveling the length of her ear speaks to him with a bright smile. They look joyful and free. I wonder if that's how I will look this time next year.

"Hi." A dark-skinned boy says, suddenly appearing to my right. A statuesque blonde accompanies him, both dressed in black. They must be Dauntless born.

"Hello." I smile, trying to remember all I'd been told of Dauntless customs. I know that they shake hands, but it doesn't feel appropriate in this situation.

"I'm Uriah, this is Marlene." The boy continues, gesturing to his companion. She smiles, nodding in recognition. "What's your name?"

"Indigo. It's nice to meet you both."

"You too." Marlene says, speaking for the first time. Her voice is soft, but there's a sharp edge to it. "So you're from Amity."

"Yes." I reply, tugging at my red blouse unconsciously.

"I've always liked the Amity." She continues, looking thoughtful. "If I didn't love Dauntless so much, I'd have gone to Amity."

"The Amity seem cool, but Dauntless is where it's at." Uriah says, grinning at me. "It was brave of you to transfer."

"Thanks." I smile, relaxing for the first time all morning. "I loved Amity, but I knew it wasn't the place for me."

"Well, we commend you." Uriah teases as they both bow dramatically. We laugh, soon falling into an easy conversation.

I learn that initiation is one of the worst kept secrets in Dauntless, but there are some things even they don't know. Dauntless born and transfers are trained separately, though we'll be ranked against each other. The first stage is all about the physical demands of being Dauntless. The second and third are all about our fears and how they control us. The transfer instructor is "scary, but fair" and a bit of a Dauntless prodigy, so we’ll be in great hands.

"You know, I like your name, I do, but it's not very Dauntless." Marlene says suddenly, looking thoughtful.

"Well, it is an Amity name." I point out, thinking that they do have a point. "But what can I do, it's not like I can change my name."

"Sure you can." Uriah says and Marlene nods along with him at my doubtful look. "You can be anything you want to be in Dauntless."

I'm quiet as I consider this. All that I want to be, really, is Dauntless. Not Amity, not Divergent, just a normal Dauntless. I know I'll never be normal, but I can at least pretend.

"I've got it!" Marlene shouts, excited. "Indie!"

"That's perfect!" Uriah says, beaming. "Totally Dauntless!"

"What's your last name?"

"Jagger."

"Yes, it's perfect! Indie Jagger. I love it."

"I like it." I smile, unable to help but get wrapped up in their excitement. Indie Jagger. A new name for a new life.

There's a bit of commotion further up on the train as it begins to slow slightly as we approach a tall brick building. Uriah and Marlene turn in unison, eyes lighting up as they turn back to me. I already know what they're going to say before they say it, but it still shocks me.

"Time to jump." I can only imagine the look on my face because their expressions soften, lowering their voices as they huddle closer. "Don't worry, it's easy. If you can jump onto a moving train, you can jump off."

"What if I don't make it to the roof?"

"Well then you better hope for a soft landing." Uriah jokes and Marlene slaps his arm, rolling her eyes. "But in all seriousness, don't worry. You're with us. Just take a running start and leap. You'll be fine."

I take a deep breath, moving to the wall furthest from the open door. We wait until the car has emptied out a bit before we grab hands, breaking into a sprint. It's a feeling like no other as we soar through the air, until we hit the pebbled rooftop _hard_. My landing is less than graceful, but I manage to not fall over as we hit the rooftop.

I can't help but laugh, grinning as I look around at all the other stunned transfers. I just jumped off a moving train and onto a rooftop without falling over. I never could have done that in Amity.

My grin drops as there's a commotion over at the edge of the roof, where a crowd begins to gather. A feeling of dread settling into the pit of my stomach as a Dauntless born girl lets out a heart-wrenching wail, held back by a Dauntless boy. The three of us walk over slowly, wincing as we look over the edge to see another Dauntless born girl lying on the ground. Her limbs are at an odd angle and I can see the blood, even from seven stories up.

I walk over to the Dauntless born girl, who I can only assume is her sister, and slide an arm around her shoulders. I turn her away, not minding as she turns her sobs onto my shoulder while the Dauntless boy stands by looking surprised. "Don't look." I say quietly, leading her away from the edge. "You don't want to see that."

"Listen up!" A man says from the other end of the roof, standing atop the ledge without a worry in the world. He is simultaneously the most handsome and terrifying man I've ever seen in my life. "My name's Eric, I'm one of the leaders of your new faction!" His eyes pass over the crowd of initiates, unimpressed.

His eyes pause when they reach me, a flash of surprise passing over so quickly I could have imagined it. He moves on, clearing his throat as he continues his speech.

"Several stories below is the members' entrance to the compound. If you can't find it in you to jump, you don't belong here. Initiates, you have the honor of going first."

"You want us to jump? Off the ledge?" Someone says from the other side of the crowd, but I can't see who.

"That is what I said, is it not?" Eric replies, a dangerous glint in his eye. Silently, I wonder if he'd much rather throw us off than let us jump.

"Is there water at the bottom, or something?"

"Guess you'll just have to find out." Eric snaps, clearly irritated. "Is anyone going to volunteer or is our entire initiation class going to end up factionless?"

"I'll go." A quiet voice says, surprising us all. The crowd parts and I'm pleased to see Beatrice, the Abnegation transfer, moving to the ledge.

If Eric is surprised he doesn't let it show, merely steps aside and waits for her to go. She seems to hesitate once she gets there, as if for the first time realizing what she's about to do. She takes off her jacket, leaving her in just a t-shirt. She balls it up and throws it at a Candor boy, nailing him in the chest. Uriah lets out a hoot of laughter at the look on his face and I can't suppress a smirk. She steps up onto the ledge, bends her knees, and jumps.

She doesn't scream, doesn't make a peep, and I can't decide if that's better or worse. We hear a faint whoosh from down below as she hits something, but we don't know what. It's quiet for a few moments until we hear shouting down below and a cheer rise up.

We all jump into a line and I end up as the third jumper, just after Uriah. When it's my turn to jump, Eric unconsciously steps away from me and gives me a curious look. I ignore him, not sure what to make of it, as I turn around and let myself fall back into the hole.

The wind howls in my ears as I fall into the unknown, Eric’s figure shrinking rapidly as my body races towards the ground. I hit something hard, bouncing back up in the air a bit before settling back into it. I can't help but let out a laugh as I land, joyful exhilaration running through my veins. I've landed in a net and I feel it shift as a hand pulls me out, putting me on solid ground. A man stands before me, his face stern, but I can see his surprise as he spies my red and yellow clothes.

"An Amity, huh?" He says, the stern expression giving way to amusement. "How unusual. What's your name, Amity?"

"Indie." I say without hesitation, noticing Uriah grinning out of the corner of my eye. He nods, smiling, and turns back to the crowd.

"Third jumper, Indie!" He yells as whoops and cheers fill the cavernous space, my heart leaping as I know I've made the right choice. "Welcome to Dauntless."


	3. A Dauntless Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are much appreciated :)

 

I can't shake my smile as I walk over to Uriah and Beatrice, laughing as he high fives me. Beatrice watches us curiously, smiling kindly when she notices me watching. I walk over, extending a hand as I've seen the Dauntless do so many times before. 

"I don't think we've been officially introduced. I'm Indie."

"Tris." She says, grasping my hand tentatively before quickly releasing. 

"Congratulations on jumping first, I don't know how you did it." I tell her and she laughs, shaking her head. 

"My mouth decided before my brain, I just kind of went with it."

"An Amity _and_ an Abnegation transfer, huh?" Uriah begins, looking amused. "This is going to be an interesting initiation."

"Do you know when the last time an Amity or Abnegation transferred to Dauntless?" Tris asked him, curious. I tried to remember if I'd heard of an Amity moving to Dauntless in recent years, but I came up empty. 

"About four years ago, an Abnegation boy. I don't think an Amity and Abnegation have ever transferred in the same year."

"Good to know..." I trail off as the next person jumps, a dark-haired girl dressed in Candor clothes. She moves over to join us, a familiarity already there between her and Tris. She immediately introduces herself as Christina, shaking both mine and Uriah's hands. 

The four of us stand together, chatting quietly as more initiates begin to jump. Marlene joins us shortly thereafter, introducing herself to Tris and Christina. Soon enough all the initiates have jumped and Eric lands in the net. Uriah lowers his voice and tells us that the girl whose sister fell—Rita—never came. That either means she chose to be factionless, or she jumped to join her sister. The man who helped us out of the net waits until Eric gives him a nod before he speaks. 

"Initiates, welcome. Follow us." We walk behind him and a Dauntless woman as they lead us down a narrow tunnel. The walls are rocky and the tunnel is dark, the exact sort of thing I'd expect from Dauntless. We walk for a few minutes until we reach an opening, coming to a sudden stop. 

"This is where we divide. Dauntless born, you're with Lauren." 

"We'll see you at dinner." Uriah murmurs as he and Marlene leave, following the woman named Lauren down a narrow tunnel. The man waits until they've all disappeared before he continues, his face stern again. 

"I usually work in the control room, but for the next few weeks I will be your instructor. My name's Four."

"Four?" Christina repeats, almost as if she can't stop herself from speaking. Being from Candor, she probably can't. "Like the number?"

"Yes. Problem?"

"No."

"Good. We're going to go into the Pit now, which—"

"The Pit? How creative." Christina says, sarcastic. I wince, hoping for her sake that rudeness is more appreciated in Dauntless than in Amity. Judging by the look on Four's face, it's not. 

"What's your name?" His voice is light, but there is a deadly look in his eyes as he stalks up to her. 

"Christina." She says confidently, though I can see a slight falter in her stance. 

"Well, Christina, if I wanted to deal with Candor's smart mouths I would have joined their faction. The first thing you'll learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Clear?"

"Crystal."

"Excellent." He murmurs, stepping away. "Let's go."

He begins to walk and we follow, silent. Christina grumbles that he's a jerk and Tris simply tells her that he probably doesn't like to be laughed at. I think the issue is more that Dauntless doesn't appreciate soldiers who speak out of turn, but I don't say that. Instead, I look around in awe as we enter a large cavern. The Pit really is the best word for it, even if it isn't the most creative. 

"The Pit is the center of life in Dauntless." He says, as a group of children run by. "You'll learn to love it if you already don't."

Next he takes us to the Chasm, a roaring body of water too treacherous for even the strongest swimmers. He says it's there to remind us of the difference between being brave and reckless. I think it's there to scare us, but nobody asked me. 

The tour continues as he shows us around the training room, the cafeteria, and the dormitories. He says there's more to Dauntless, but these are the places we will need to know how to find. The dorms are simple, ten standard beds scattered around the room with a bathroom. There is little to no privacy, something I am used to with the communal bathrooms of Amity. I can already tell that for Tris, who is still so private and modest, it will be a struggle. 

Four leaves us to pick beds and change into the new black clothes that have been provided for us. I end up between Christina and a boy from Erudite, with Tris on the other side of Christina next to a kind-looking boy from Candor.

We dress quickly, following Four to a roaring furnace out in the hall. We throw in the clothes of our old factions, watching a medley of blue and red and white and grey burn to black ash before our eyes. We head to the cafeteria next, sitting downwind of the Dauntless born. Uriah and Marlene wave and I back, ending up beside the boy from Erudite and across from Four. 

I learn that the Erudite boy is named Will and the Candor next to Tris is Al. Tris looks confused by the hamburger patties on a nearby plate and then I remember that the Abnegation don't eat hamburgers. The Amity don't either, eating a plant-based diet free of meat. But, I'm in Dauntless now. So I take a hamburger patty with my fork, put it on, and nod at Tris to do the same. 

Four surprises us all when he hands Tris a bottle of ketchup, telling her to put it on. She does so and takes a bite, a surprised smile lighting up her face. I grin and follow suit, surprised by how much I enjoy the taste of meat. 

The transfers begin to chat about their old factions, soon giving way to a debate on the merits of Erudite versus Candor. Four eventually shuts it down, reminding us that we're Dauntless now and he doesn't want to hear about our old factions. We immediately quiet and I think that's it, until Tris speaks. 

"Were you a transfer too?" He turns, a dangerous glint in his eyes. 

"What makes you think you can talk to me?"

"I don't know," she murmurs, and he turns back to his food, "must be because you're so approachable. Like a bed of nails."

I snort, as the others around me begin to snicker. Even Four looks amused, though his voice is low as he leans in and warns Tris to be careful. The cafeteria quiets then as the doors open, revealing Eric. He somehow looks scarier than he did before, the piercings all over his face catching the light as he walks. 

His eyes are cold as they sweep over the room, heading our way. Tris immediately shrinks in on herself, almost as if she could disappear into the bench. Four does not turn around, but I can see the way his shoulders tense and his spine straightens. 

"Four." Eric says by way of greeting as he approaches, looking amused as he sees our trepidation. "Introduce me."

"This is Tris, Christina, Will, Al, and Indie." Four obliges, pointing to each one of us. Eric nods, looking curiously between Tris and I. 

"An Amity and a Stiff? You've got your work cut out for you." He says and I wonder what he means. Our eyes meet and mine immediately drop to my plate, praying he did not notice. His fingers start to tap on the table, black ink spread across his knuckles. I try to read what they say but he moves his hand away, turning to Four. 

"Max would like to see you."

"Now?"

"Well considering you've skipped out on every meeting he's set up, he feels there's no time like the present." He sounds amused, but there's an edge of annoyance in his tone. 

"Fine." Four relents, standing up. The two leave together, not looking at one other and not saying a word. The whole table immediately relaxes as he soon as he's gone, but I can't stop my eyes from flicking back to him as he leaves. He pauses as he reaches the doors, turning back one last time. Our eyes meet again but, this time, I am not the one who looks away. 

Dinner passes by easily after that, as we eat and continue to get to know each other. Uriah and Marlene slide down the table to join us, bringing with them another Dauntless born named Lynn. Her head is shaved, her nose is pierced, and she scares the hell out of me but she makes pleasant enough conversation. 

A little while later three people stand on a balcony above the cafeteria, looking down at us. Eric stands between two men, both significantly older than him. It isn't until I see him between the two that I realize he can't be much older than us. They wait until the cafeteria quiets down, the man on Eric's left stepping forward. 

"Initiates, stand." We follow orders, rising fluidly like one unit. "I'm Max, one of your leaders. This is Harrison, another leader, and you've already met Eric." Eric smirks and I can see Al visibly flinch out of the corner of my eye. "You have chosen to join the warrior faction. We are tasked with the protection of this city and all its inhabitants. We believe that cowardice is to blame for the injustices of the world. We believe that we must fight for peace. We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another. We do not believe that silence is useful. We do not believe in standing idly by. We do not believe that there is any virtue more important than bravery. Respect that and do us proud."

The crowd breaks into raucous cheers and applause, a light feeling filling up my heart. Max and Harrison looked pleased, and even Eric looks slightly less intimidating. Suddenly we are lifted from the ground, Dauntless members lifting us up above their heads and passing us around. I can hear Christina laugh joyously as Uriah whoops, Marlene grabbing my hand as I pass her by. Tris and I share a laugh when we end up beside each other, beaming. 

I will pass initiation. I will be brave. I will do the leaders of my faction proud because I _will_ be Dauntless.


	4. First Day of the Rest of Your Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a very merry whatever! Happy reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

The first day of training dawns bright and early—well, as bright as it can be in the Dauntless compound. Four enters the dorms, flicking on the lights as he bangs something metal against an exposed pipe. I wince, unused to such loud wakeup calls. Four tells us to be in the training room in fifteen minutes and leaves. 

I'm sluggish as I roll out of bed, wincing as my bare feet meet the cold concrete floor. I didn't sleep well, a combination of homesickness and Al's crying. I try not to hold it against him, but I can't squash the resentment I feel as he walks by. 

We walk to the training room in silence, our minds consumed by our own nerves and exhaustion. We're the first ones there and we watch as Four sets up. As soon as I see him pull guns out I tense, knowing what we'll be starting with. Tris notices and squeezes my hand, empathizing. If there's one thing Abnegation and Amity agree on, it's that guns are bad. 

But, we're not Abnegation or Amity anymore. We're Dauntless. 

The rest of the initiates file in soon after. Eric enters last. I'm surprised to see him, but I try not to let it show. He brushes past me, knocking his shoulder into mine and giving me a sharp look. I've no idea what I did to piss him off, but I'll try to avoid it in the future. He says something to Four, who looks annoyed but knows not to argue. Then he steps aside, gesturing for Four to begin. 

"Come grab a gun." He says, gesturing to the pile he's organized on the table. "Do not do anything with it except hold it." He adds, scowling. Eric smirks and I can only imagine the incident that led to that warning. 

"The first thing you'll learn is to shoot a gun. The second is to win a fight. I presume I don't need to teach you how to get on and off a moving train, since you've made it this far." Though Four is speaking, I can't stop my eyes from wandering back to Eric. His face is impassive as Four speaks, but he appears to be hanging on to his every word. I'm not quite sure what to make of that dynamic. "Initiation is three stages. We'll measure your progress and rank you based on your performance. You will be trained separately from the Dauntless born, but you will be ranked against them. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank. This means that it is possible to improve your rank over time—but it is difficult. Preparation eradicates cowardice, which is the failure to act in the midst of fear. Thus, each stage will prepare you in different ways. The first is physical; the second, emotional; and the third, mental."

"But what..." Peter yawns through his words and I can see Eric's eyebrow twitch. "What does firing a gun have to do with bravery?"

Four moves so quick that I blink and suddenly he has the barrel of his gun pressed to Peter's forehead. He clicks a bullet into place, a dangerous glint in his eye. Eric looks pleased, like he's the proud parent of this frightening version of Four. Peter looks terrified, his mouth agape. 

"Wake up!" Four snaps. "You're holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it."

Yep. Definitely not in Amity anymore. 

Four moves back to the front of the room, as if nothing had just happened. Eric's face morphs back into his passive expression and I turn back to Four. He continues, finally answering Peter's question. We're less likely to act with cowardice if we're prepared to defend ourselves. He then demonstrates, shooting the dead center of the target on the first go. 

"Begin!"

We scatter like roaches, moving to stand in front of the targets. I adjust my stance, moving my legs until they're shoulder width apart, and aim for the target. The gun is heavy, I have to squeeze hard for it to shoot, and the recoil sends a harsh shockwave up my arms. But, I at least manage to hit the target. Several others around me, including Tris, aren't so lucky on the first try. 

I continue to shoot until my clip runs out, more than half ending up somewhere close to the center. By the time Four tells us to stop, most of us have managed to hit the middle of the target or close to. He then shows us how to disassemble and reload our guns, not letting us go back to practicing until we show we can do it. 

Edward is the first one to return to target practice, his hands moving like lightning across the gun. Peter and Will follow soon after, myself and Christina not far behind. Tris joins us after a bit and Al is the last one, his large hands stumbling over the weapon. 

Eric says nothing, leaning against the wall as he watches us continue to shoot. The only time he shows any emotion is when Edward hits the center, but it disappears so quickly I could have imagined it. It isn't until I start consistently hitting the center that he moves, creeping up behind me. 

"An Amity shooting a gun," he says and I flinch, startled, "never thought I'd see the day."

"I'm not Amity anymore." I tell him, as fiercely as I am able. He smirks, leaning in closer. 

"Well you're not Dauntless, not yet anyway. So what does that make you?"

"An initiate." Four answers for me, scowling at Eric as he approaches us. "One who should be practicing her shooting."

I immediately whip around, message received, and aim my gun to shoot again. Eric doesn't reply, stalking away and going to observe Edward's form across the room. Four remains behind me, not saying anything but I can sense him struggling to decide what he wants to do. In the end, he says nothing and walks away. 

When Four finally calls for lunch I'm relieved, eager for a break from the proximity to Eric. There's something so simultaneously stifling and intoxicating about his presence. I'm the first one out of the room once I've put my gun away, preferring to wait outside for my friends to catch up.

We don't speak much as we walk to the cafeteria, except for when Christina invites Al to sit with us. I don't object, the Amity ways are forever ingrained in me, but I'm not thrilled. There's just something about Al that makes me uneasy. I can't put my finger on what it is, but it leaves me weary to befriend him. 

Tris and I are quiet as we eat, only half-listening to Christina and Al talk about their shared classes. I can't stop thinking about my odd interaction with Eric before Four stepped in. I'm pleased that he thinks it's possible that I'll be Dauntless one day, but I don't know what he expected me to say. More than likely, he's just trying to mess with my head. 

Will joins us soon after, a welcome addition to our quiet table. When he points out Myra and Edward making out a few tables away, it provides some comic relief as Tris shows her Abnegation. I giggle at how appalled she is by the display, telling her that she would be horrified by the Amity. The rest of lunch is much lighter and I almost regret the fact that we have to return to training. 

Four leads us to a different room after lunch, a neat row of punching bags lined up beside a wall. A chalkboard just like the ones our teachers used in Lower Levels stands against another wall. Our names are written in alphabetical order all the way down the board and I'm curious as to the reason why. 

"Like I said earlier, you're going to learn how to win a fight. But, you've got to learn to walk before you can run so we're going to start off with these punching bags. Tomorrow you'll begin fighting each other, so you'll want to pay attention. Those who don't learn fast will get hurt."

Four then proceeds to demonstrate, showing us a few moves first in the air and then on the punching bag. We all seem to catch on fairly quick, able to at least somewhat mimic the way he moves his body. The punching bag is rigid and all my muscles hurt, but it begins to move more the longer I practice. 

Eric and Four wander the room, watching us go through the movements and correcting as needed. When Eric stops beside me, face blank, I feel a nauseating amount of nerves crash over me. He watches me closely, his expression not giving anything anyway. He finally speaks when I manage to hit the bag so hard it smacks into the wall, standing nearer to me than I thought. 

"What the hell did you do in Amity?" He asks, grabbing on to my arm to feel the muscles already there. "Lift weights in your spare time?"

"I spent a lot of time in the fields during harvest."

"Dependents farmed the land?"

"Dependents volunteered in all areas to help the faction run smoothly."

"You sound like you're reciting a manifesto." He smirks, releasing my arm. "Is that in the Amity manifesto?"

"I don't know." I reply, honest. "I always stopped listening after the first verse."

I didn't think it was possible, but a genuine smile crosses his face at my response. He pats my shoulder, turning to leave. "Keep up the good work, initiate. Maybe we'll make a fine Dauntless out of you yet."

L I N E   B R E A K

"I can't believe we're actually doing this." Tris says, eyeing the designs lining the walls with trepidation. Once Four dismissed us for dinner, Al suggested we all go get tattoos. I was unsure at first but if I’m going to be Dauntless I may as well go all in. 

"I'm pretty sure tattoos are an inevitability in Dauntless." I tell her, eyeing an intricate geometric design. "If it doesn't happen now, it'll happen eventually."

"Assuming we all pass initiation, that is." Will corrects. Tris pales and I scowl at him. He flushes, but he doesn't take it back. He's not wrong. 

"Anyway..." Christina trails off, trying to get us back on track, "I think I'm going to get the Dauntless symbol." 

"Where at?" Will asks. I don't miss the way Christina's smile shifts, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

"That's for me to know and you to wonder."

I roll my eyes, turning to hide my smirk. Tris looks stunned by the exchange, but says nothing as she wanders off to look at another book across the room. I grab a different book of designs, frustrated that I have yet to find one that strikes my fancy. They're either too simple, too elaborate, or just not me. 

"You know, the designs in those books are just examples." A voice says from behind me. I whip around, coming face to face with the same Dauntless man I saw on the train. "We could use them as a starting point, or do something else from scratch if you have an idea of what you want."

"I don't know what I want." I confess. I expect him to laugh or make a comment about the transfer initiate trying to grow up too fast. But, he doesn't. Instead, he just smiles and grabs a notebook. 

"Well, let's try to change that."

The man soon introduces himself as Bud, one of the tattoo artists in Dauntless. I learn that he also transferred from Amity and the first tattoo he ever got was a tree. This gives us both an idea and, within ten minutes, he's drawn me the perfect design. 

When I leave the tattoo parlor my right shoulder blade is sore, but I'm satisfied with the ink there. The base is a large oak tree, just like the one in the Amity symbol. On one side, watercolor green leaves fill the tree like they do in Amity in the spring. On the other, the branches are bare and a flock of crows fly away from the tree. It's the perfect blend of Amity and Dauntless and I love it. 

Tris chose three ravens flying from her collarbone to her heart and the ink suits her surprisingly well. Will picks a series of flames licking the expanse of his chest, Al a flaming silhouette on his left shoulder. Christina gets the Dauntless symbol, but she refuses to tell us where.

On our way back to the dorms, Christina drags us girls into a clothing shop. She forces Tris into a simple black dress that hugs her curves and makes her look older. She's hesitant about wearing the dress, but after some encouragement from us she relents. When Christina holds up an eyeliner pencil, I can't help but laugh at the look on Tris's face.  

"Never worn makeup before?" I tease her, knowing full well that the Abnegation wouldn't dare. Makeup isn't as common in Amity, since looking pretty won't help you out in the fields. I've only ever worn the stuff for special occasions, like the harvest celebration. I won't deny that I enjoy the confidence boost having it on brings. 

"That stuff won't make me pretty, you know." Tris grumbles, pouting as Christina comes at her with the pencil. 

"Who cares about pretty?" She dismisses, drawing a thin line across her eyelids. "I'm going for noticeable here."

I'm surprised by the thoughtfulness with which Christina speaks, unable to deny her point. Beauty is subjective and from what I've seen in Dauntless, every girl is pretty here. But not everyone is noticeable. 

When Tris opens her eyes, we both know that Christina was right. The dark color lining her eyes makes them pop, a piercing shade of blue now. Her features are softened with her blonde hair framing her face. I smile encouragingly when she looks to me, pleased that she's noticed the changes as well. She looks noticeable. She looks beautiful. 

She looks Dauntless. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indie’s tattoo is pictured here (http://img09.deviantart.net/15a5/i/2014/065/2/7/girl_with_tree_tattoo___by_tanyashatseva-d794y89.jpg).


	5. Hanging Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR apologies for the delay in getting this chapter posted! I am honestly so embarrassed I might go crawl under a rock and die. I’m in my senior year and I’m running my own research project (it’s currently a clusterfuck, but I won’t bore you with the deets) and yeah I honestly just got so sidetracked and I meant to post this on new year’s but then shit hit the fan and now here we are, a horrifying month and a half later. I am so sorry. To make up for the horrendo wait, I’ll be posting the next chapter either today or tomorrow once I make a few quickie edits. Again, I am so sorry for the delay. Happy reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

The second day of training begins exactly as the first, with a few minor exceptions. Before we even get the chance to practice shooting, Four tells us we'll be going on a run. Eric is absent this morning and I don't understand the mix of disappointment and relief I feel, so I ignore it. Four takes us around the perimeter of the compound, through the factionless sector, and then back up to the training room. 

I surprise both myself and Four as I'm able to keep pace, always at the front of the pack for most of the run. He doesn't say it, but I can see he's impressed when he keeps checking to see if I'm still right behind him. I always enjoyed running through the fields in Amity, it was a good way to let out the excess energy I always had. Johanna encouraged it when I stayed with her, got me into the practice of timing myself and trying to beat it. She always said that so long as it didn't get in the way of the work that needed to be done, she saw no harm in it. 

I wonder if she was surprised when I chose Dauntless. I miss her. Not as much as I miss my mother, of course, but fairly close to it. Even after I was returned to the care of my mother she would stop by, bringing treats and a sympathetic ear. My mother welcomed her presence, teasing that I was such a handful I required two mothers. 

I think she understood that Johanna and I had developed a bond while she was gone, and she respected it. Johanna lost her husband a few years before I was born and I think I filled a void when I stayed with her. I'm glad they have each other to lean on. They can be each other's family now. 

"Ah, shit." Christina mutters as we return from lunch, gesturing to the chalkboard. Our names are still written up there but, unlike yesterday, we're paired up. I wince, sympathetic when I see her name written next to Molly. I scan the list for my own name, frowning as I read the list of pairings. 

Al and Drew will fight first. Knowing Al, he'll lose—either due to a lack of skill or an unwillingness to fight. Edward and Peter will be second, but it's a toss up as to who will win. Based on my interactions with Peter, I’m rooting for Edward. Molly and Christina will go third and I feel for her, knowing it won't end well. Tris and Myra will go after them, another toss up. Will and I are last and I'm dreading it. I don't want to fight a friend—anyone, really—but I want to be in Dauntless. 

"Today you're going to fight each other." Four tells us, as if it wasn’t obvious from the pairings on the chalkboard. He pauses when Eric enters the room, narrowing his eyes as he goes to stand by the chalkboard. "Al and Drew, you're up first."

The two boys walk into the arena in the center of the room, hands up to protect their faces like Four taught us. Al has almost a foot on Drew, but they're both built like boulders. Al is hesitant, even though he could probably beat Drew to a pulp if he really tried. Drew buzzes with a frenetic energy, a false bravado as he waits for the right time to strike. 

To my surprise, Al throws the first punch. He hits Drew in the jaw, hard enough that Drew and I both wince. Eric smirks at Al, a sadistic pleasure dancing in his eyes. Four looks disinterested, but I can see him watching closely. Drew stumbles, but he manages to block Al's next punch. He grimaces and I wonder if it would have been less painful to just get punched again. Al might be slow, but he is powerful. 

"C'mon, Al." Christina murmurs under her breath and I turn to her. "Knock him out."

"Are you cheering for Al to win or Drew to lose?" I ask her in a low murmur, not wanting to be overheard by Peter or Molly. 

"Both." She replies, groaning when Drew manages to get an uppercut in to Al's chest. 

"It's not nice to root against people, even if they are terrible." I remind her. 

"I'm pretty sure it's not nice to call people terrible, Miss Amity." She teases and I shut up immediately. 

"Why do you hate them?" Tris asks her and I have to admit I'm curious myself. I've noticed the animosity between Christina and “the troubling trio” but I never thought to ask. 

"They're cruel. They follow Peter around like lost puppies, doing his bidding without a second thought." Peter and Molly look our way before turning into a huddle and I groan in my own head. 

"I think they know we're talking about them." Tris looks worried but Christina just shrugs, watching as Al lands another punch to Drew's jaw. 

"They already know I hate them, who cares?"

"You should, since you'll be fighting one of them in a few minutes." I point out and she grins, unafraid. 

"They should see that I'm helping them by hating them." She tells me and I laugh as Tris cracks a smile. "Everyone needs to be reminded that they aren't God's gift to humanity."

We turn back to the arena, watching as Al and Drew stand facing each other. They seem hesitant, glancing over to Four expectantly like they're waiting for him to call it off. He does nothing, standing with his arms folded as he watches them face off. Beside him, Eric checks his watch and looks bored. 

They continue to circle each for a few more moments, until Eric finally snaps, "Do you think this is just for fun? Should we break for a nap? Fight, dammit!"

"But..." Al trails off, letting his hands down, "is this scored or something? When do we stop fighting?"

"You stop when one of you is unable to continue." He answers. 

"According to the rules," Four interjects, ignoring the withering glare Eric shoots him, "you could also concede."

"According to the old rules." Eric corrects. "In the new rules, no one concedes."

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of another." Four argues. 

"A brave man never surrenders."

Four and Eric stare at one another, not saying a thing. The whole room has gone quiet, watching this silent fight with rapt attention. It's like we're looking at two different versions of Dauntless—one honorable, one ruthless. But it's clear to everyone in this room, including Four, that Eric is the one with the authority. Four may be in charge of our training, but Eric is in charge of our faction. 

"This is pointless." Al says suddenly, forcing them to break their stare down. "We're in the same faction! Why should I beat him up?"

"Don't be so confident, cry baby." Drew says, taunting him. "I'll be the one beating you up, let's be clear."

Even Eric, who normally lauds every flash of cruelty we show, looks unimpressed by the declaration. Four rolls his eyes, turning away from Eric to watch the arena. We follow his lead, watching as Drew puts his hands up again. He looks determined and I wonder if he really believes that he could win. One good shot to the head and Al could knock him out cold. 

Al goes to punch him, looking ready to knock him out just to end the fight, but Drew is surprisingly quick. He ducks out of the way, dodging another as he moves behind Al to kick him in the back. Al is surprised, as are we, and I see his face shift. He looks angry, furious all of a sudden, and I wonder if Drew realizes he's just made a huge mistake. 

Al charges at Drew, a tight grip on his arm holding him in place long enough to punch him in the jaw. Drew's face crumples just before his body does, the light dimming in his eyes as he hits the ground. Al looks stunned, in disbelief that he actually did that, and even Eric looks shocked. He crouches down by Drew's body, patting his cheek to check for a sign of life. Drew does not move for a few seconds, perfectly still as Al hovers above him. Then he regains consciousness with a quiet gasp, looking dazed. 

"Get him up." Eric orders. He looks pleased, but not in the cruel sort of way I expected. Al follows orders, dragging him over to lean against a nearby bench. Molly goes to sit beside him, Peter going pale as he realizes he's up next. Four circles Al's name on the board before going over to help lead Drew to the infirmary. We're all tense, uneasy about being left alone with Eric to watch over us. 

"Edward, Peter, get in there." Eric tells us, his face eager. 

It's no secret that Peter and Edward showed the most skill during training yesterday and I'm sure he can't wait to see what they'll do. They don't disappoint, going at each other hard. The fight lasts longer than it did with Drew and Al, the two throwing punches so quick I'd miss them if I blinked. Peter is cruel and determined, but Edward is strong and logical. When Edward delivers the final blow to knock Peter out, I'm mortified by the satisfaction I feel at the sight. 

Eric circles Edward's name, dismissing them from the arena. Edward carries Peter to the infirmary, as Four has still not returned. When he calls up Christina and Molly to fight she looks confident, but I can see the nervous set to her shoulders. Molly puts her all into the fight, but Christina doesn't back down. Neither of them want to lose, but we all know that one of them must. 

I can see Christina beginning to tire, her movements slowed, but she doesn't give up. Molly seems to get more energy as the fight continues, her movements becoming harsher. I beg whatever deity there may be to please let Christina go unconscious, to end the madness. Tris winces beside me with every hit Molly lands and I just wish someone would stop this. Someone does, but it's the worst person possible. 

"Stop!" Christina cries, pleading as she lies prone on the ground with her arms outstretched. "Stop! I'm done."

"I'm sorry, you're what?" Eric asks, his movements calm as he walks to the arena. "Did you say you're done?"

 _Don't do it_ , I beg Christina, silent. _Keep fighting, don't give up._

Christina stands, hand held to her nose to stop the bleeding. She nods and I feel everything in me begin to tense up. Eric stares at her, face carefully neutral as he considers this. 

"Ok." He says calmly. I feel ill. If he were yelling and angry, I would know how to wrap my head around this. But this Eric, this cool and collected guy who seems to be ok with an initiate conceding, scares me. "Follow me."

He turns on his heel and heads for the door, walking out. We follow behind him, weary. He says nothing as we walk down the corridors, leading us through so many twists and turns I have no idea where we're going. It isn't until I hear rushing water faintly in the distance that I understand. Tris seems to realize it at the same time that I do, shooting me a panicked look. We are both powerless to do anything to stop this and that's what makes it so difficult. 

Eric shoves Christina against the railing and I feel weak, turning my head away. I feel like a coward, unable to stop this. Even if there was anyone around, I know they wouldn't—couldn’t—help her. Tris grabs my hand, squeezing hard. 

"Climb over." He orders. 

"What?" Christina asks, face gone ashen at his command. Eric won't back down and we all know it. 

"Climb over the railing." He repeats. "If you can hang over the chasm for five minutes, I'll forget your cowardice. If you can't, I will deliver you to the factionless myself."

The railing is narrow and covered in water from the spray of the chasm, a slippery death trap. Even if she was brave enough to do as he says, she could lose her grip and fall. Dead or factionless. These seem to be the only choices in Dauntless. 

"Fine." She says, voice gone shaky. She climbs over slowly, wincing with every movement. Her face is fierce, determined. When her feet step off the ledge, Al sets his watch. 

She is fine for the first minute and a half. But when a spray of water hits her back she cries out, face smacking into the barrier. Her grip loosens and she hangs only by her fingertips. Christina is strong, but her face crumples. She sobs, loud enough to be heard over the river. Another wave hits the wall and soaks her, forcing another to finger to slip from the railing. 

"Come on, Christina." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Eric shoots me a sharp look but I ignore him, my eyes meeting Christina's. "You can do it, just hang on a little bit longer."

Christina nods, swinging her arm and fumbling for the railing. She grabs on, knuckles white but her grip is better. We're quiet for a few moments more, Christina's breathing harsh as she focuses on hanging on. 

"You can do it, Christina." Tris tells her, her voice shaky. Al joins in, cheering her on. Will stays quiet, but his eyes never leave Christina's as he gives her an encouraging nod. I look to Al's watch and I'm relieved to see only a minute remains.

"One more minute." I tell her. Another wave crashes against the wall, fiercer than before. Her grip slips and a scream tears from everyone's throat, but she manages to grab back onto the railing. Eric's face is impassive and suddenly I hate him. I've never hated anyone before in my life, but I know that I hate him. 

"Five minutes are up." Al says, his voice hard. Eric takes his time, leisurely checking his watch. 

"Fine." He says, sounding bored. "You can come up now."

Al and I walk toward the railing. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Eric barks. "She has to do it on her own."

"No." I snap, surprised that the words come from me. His face hardens, but he says nothing. "She did what you said."

Al reaches over the railing, pulling her up and I help him swing her over. She collapses into me, shaking as Tris comes over to join us. Eric watches us, saying nothing, but the look in his eyes tells me any brownie points I’ve earned have just disappeared. I ignore him, turning my focus back onto Christina. Her eyes lift up to ours and we catch our breath, trying to remember how to breathe. 

"Back to training." Eric barks, looking furious. We help Christina to rise, letting her lean on us as we walk back to the training room. No one will meet our eyes, surely ashamed of their own cowardice. 

 _"We believe in ordinary acts of bravery,"_ Max had told us, no more than two days ago, _"in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another. Do us proud."_

None of us had done him proud.


	6. Knife Through the Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

When we return to the training room, Four is waiting for us. He looks confused and frustrated, but he doesn't ask us where we've been. Instead, he calls up Tris and Myra to begin their fight. They don't last long. Tris may be a former Abnegation just as opposed to violence as I, but Myra is weak and frail. She goes down in less than a minute and I can see the guilt clear as day on Tris's face as she brings her to the infirmary. 

I feel sick as Will and I enter the arena. I might have come here with some muscle and a desire to pass initiation, but Will is stronger than I and we both know it. He shoots me a sympathetic look as our hands go up and I hope he'll end this quick. 

He throws the first punch and I manage to dodge it, jumping out of the way. He nails me on his second try, but he only manages to hit my shoulder. I give him a confused look, knowing he can move much faster than he is. I take advantage of his sluggishness, aiming a punch for his jaw. I succeed, but I cringe nonetheless. 

The fight continues on like this, him throwing halfhearted punches I dodge easily. It isn't until Eric barks at us to quit messing around that Will gets into it. We both seem to come to the same conclusion, that it would be better for us if he just ended it. I nod to him, giving him permission. Knowing I gave consent doesn't lessen the impact as his fist collides with my face. I crumple immediately, blacking out. 

I wake to find Tris standing over me, relieved. She steps out of the way and Four takes her place, crouching down to ask if I'm alright. He tells me I wasn't out long enough to need a trip to the infirmary, but if I feel bad enough he'll take me. I refuse, insisting that I'm fine as he helps me up. 

"That's it for today." Four announces. Eric stands by the chalkboard, looking at us coolly. "Be in the training room at six sharp tomorrow morning, tell your fellow initiates. Don't be late."

We all move slowly, heading for the door. We're all a bit banged up and bruised, even those who won their fights. No one says a word, too exhausted for small talk. I startle when Eric steps in front of me, forcing me to stop. His face is blank, but it's clear that he is ordering me to stay. 

My friends shoot me questioning looks, but I wave them ahead. They hesitate, but one look from Eric sends them on. Four looks uneasy as he glances at us, but he says nothing as he leaves the room. Eric steps away from me once he's gone, walking over to the chalkboard. He erases it and begins to rewrite our names, this time grouping those who won and those who lost in separate sections. I stay silent, rooted to the spot where he stopped me. I have no idea what he wants from me, but I wish he'd just spit it out already. 

"I'm disappointed in you, initiate." He finally speaks, his voice cold. "You showed such promise." 

I don't know what he wants me to say, so I say nothing. He doesn't seem to mind my silence, carrying on. 

"Your friend went easy on you. Points will be deducted from his score for that." I'm angry, but I don't say anything. I don't want to make this worse. "Do you think you're still in Amity?"

"Of course not." I respond, confused by his line of questioning.

"You hesitated to throw a punch. Even once you finally did muster up the courage, you seemed to regret it." 

"Well, I don't exactly enjoying beating up my friends."

"You're weak, there's no risk of that." I scowl, biting my tongue. "Should I only be pairing you with the initiates you dislike? Will you actually stand a chance then?"

"I thought I was weak." I retort, sarcastic. "How would fighting someone else change that?" Eric's eyes flare and he walks over to me so quick I blink and then he's only inches from my face. 

"You are on very thin ice here." He warns me, glaring fiercely. "You could do well, if you actually tried. If you're not going to try, then you don't deserve to be here."

"What's so bad about not wanting to fight my friends?" I snap, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. I think maybe I’ve been around Christina for far too long. "Shouldn't we be using our strength to fight actual threats, not taking pleasure in beating each other up for your amusement?"

"When a real threat comes along, they won't go easy on you like your friend did!" He shouts. "You need to practice now, in a controlled environment, while you have the chance! Sometimes you have to fight, even the people you care about, in order to keep yourself and others safe! You're in Dauntless now, not Amity. You're not neutral, you fight to keep the peace. If you are unwilling or unable to do that, then you should leave us now."

I'm silent as I process his words. Though I’m loathed to admit it, he makes excellent points. We're not fighting each other for the fun of it—although I'm quite sure it's fun for Eric. We're fighting each other because we need to learn how to fight against other people. There will come a time when we must fight to ensure the safety of ourselves or another person. If we can't put in the effort now, when we're in a controlled environment fighting people we know will only hurt us so much, how can we be expected to hold our ground when a real threat comes along? We can't. 

But, Eric is still cruel. I can't forget that. 

"Why did you hang Christina over the chasm?" I ask him. He looks surprised, clearly not expecting this question, but he answers anyway. 

"Because you all need to learn to never give up. When you're out there, fighting for real, concession means death for you, or for someone else. Dauntless don't give up, ever." 

We're both silent, facing one another as his words sink in. I have no rebuttal, knowing he's right. I don't agree with what he did, but I did learn from it and I'm sure everyone else did as well. I turn, heading for the door when it seems like he has nothing else to say.

"Oh, and Indie?" He speaks, just as I'm about to leave. 

"Yes?"

"Peter steps forward right before he punches." 

"Why are you telling me that?" He smirks, like it's so obvious. 

"Just something to keep in mind."

* * *

The next few days begin just as the others—early. We start with a run, the same route as on our second day. I continue to keep pace with Four at the front of the group. When we return to the compound, we practice shooting before lunch and then fight in the afternoon. 

I take Eric's words to heart, putting my all into fighting Myra. I win, but I feel awful as I bring her to the infirmary. I lose to Peter, but I manage to dodge most of his punches and give him a gnarly black eye in the process. I win against Christina and Al, only losing to Molly by a small margin. Eric looks pleased after each of my fights and I don't know what that means. 

"Everyone grab three knives." Four orders midway through the afternoon, looking uncharacteristically excited. I notice Eric is absent, and I wonder if that is what’s brought on Four's good mood. We do as he says, putting our guns away before grabbing three daggers and returning to our places. "Be sure to pay close attention, I will only show you this once."

I study Four's arm as he throws the first knife, noticing how his grip is firm but not too firm on the handle. I watch his stance when he throws the second, telling myself to mirror him. I notice he holds his breath before he throws the third, exhaling upon release. 

When Four tells us to pick a target and start throwing, I feel confident. After years of harvesting apples from up high in the trees, my aim is sharp. I was the only person in my faction who could throw them into the buckets way down below on the ground every time. When I start to wonder who will do it now, I force my mind to change course. 

My first throw isn't terrible, but it's not as great as I hoped it would be. I manage to graze the target before it falls to the ground. I adjust my stance, remembering the way Four positioned his feet on the ground. My second is better, but it doesn't stick to the board despite hitting the center. I loosen my grip and remember to breathe in, throw, and then exhale. The third time's the charm as the knife hits dead center and stays there.

We all wait until everyone has stopped throwing before we collect our knives. Tris takes to knife throwing well, soon hitting the center each time not long after I manage to do it. Christina and Will are proficient, but they take longer to consistently hit the center. Peter struggles, a fact that makes me feel guilty for how happy it makes me. Al does the worst, not once even coming close to the target. 

"How slow are you, Candor?" Eric shouts, startling us all. We hadn't even seen him come in. Al's face falls as he recognizes the voice and we're all weary of what comes next. "Did you forget your glasses? Should we move the target closer?"

Al takes a deep breath, trying to ignore him, but Eric's words have weight. The knife doesn't even hit the wall beside the target, barely making it halfway across the room. We're all silent, watching the exchange. This can't end well. 

"What was that?" Eric asks, calm. I'm learning that a calm Eric is a scary Eric. 

"It slipped." Al stutters. I wish he would toughen up, stop letting Eric see how he gets to him. Maybe he would back off a bit. Instead, Eric sneers and I see the dangerous glint that can only mean trouble return to his eyes. 

"Well go get it then." He turns, just now noticing how we've all stopped to watch the show. "Did I tell you that you could stop?"

No one argues, turning back to their targets to resume throwing. 

"Go get it?" Al asks, incredulous. He's playing with fire here, but he’s too angry to care. "While everyone's still throwing?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to get hit."

"I think your fellow initiates have proven they can aim better than you." Eric is smiling, but there's no humor in his words. "Go get it."

Al usually complies with everything they tell us to do. He kept quiet when Eric told us to jump into the unknown to enter Dauntless. He beat Drew, knocking him unconscious. He didn't even say anything when Eric hung Christina over the chasm. But this time, he stands his ground. He's done complying. 

"No." He says. We freeze. 

"Why not?" Eric asks, his voice low. "Afraid?"

"Of being stabbed by an airborne knife? Of course I am!"

I wince, instantly knowing where he's gone wrong. By being honest, by showing his Candor roots, he's made a fatal error. If he had just refused, Eric may have been able to accept that. But cowardice? There's no room for cowards in Dauntless. 

"That's enough!" Eric shouts. We stop throwing knives, silent. I can see Tris holding her dagger, her knuckles white. I know she feels bad about staying quiet when Eric hung Christina over the chasm. I really hope she doesn't try to use this opportunity to redeem herself. "Everyone clear out. Go stand in front of the target."

We move, standing behind Eric. Al's movements are slow, calm as he walks to the target. His shaking hands are his only tell. 

"Four, a little help here?" He requests. 

_Yeah,_ I think, looking to Four,  _a little help here?_  He walks over, looking bored. It's clear that he is not going to help Al and I feel like a fool for even considering it. 

"You're going to stand there while he throws those knives until you learn not to flinch."

"Is this really necessary?" Four asks, his voice light. I can see the tense set of his shoulders, though, and I think maybe he's not going to leave Al completely to hang. 

"I have the authority here." Eric says, his voice low but I can still hear him. "Here, and everywhere." Four's expression does not change, but I can see his grip tighten on the knife. Al is petrified and he makes no effort to hide it.

"Stop it." Tris steps forward and I fight the urge to pull her back.  _Yeah, Tris,_  I want to tell her, wincing as she does not cower under the ferocity of Eric's glare.  _Stop it._  "Standing in front of a target proves nothing, except that you're a bully. Which is a sign of cowardice, as I recall."

I groan, knowing what Eric will say before he even opens his mouth. 

"Well," he says, dangerously calm, "then you should have no problem taking his place." 

Tris complies, moving to stand in front of the target as Al comes to stand by us. He is silent, unable to look any of us in the eye. I try to give her an encouraging smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. 

"If you flinch," Four starts, looking furious, "Al takes your place. Understand?" Tris nods and Four begins. 

His first knife lands a half-foot from her cheek, but she does not flinch. He taunts her, asking if she's done yet and ready to let Al take her place. She does not waver. His second knife lands just above her skull, too close for comfort. 

"Come on," He taunts her, though I detect genuine concern in his eyes. "Let someone else take your place!"

"Shut up, Four." She snaps and I cringe. Tris was a good friend. I'll miss her. 

He throws the third knife quick as lightning, expression fierce. It lands just beside her left ear, nicking it in the process. He looks satisfied and I know then that he meant to do it. Judging by the look on Tris's face, she knows it too. 

"Well, as much fun as this is," Eric sounds bored, but his eyes are excited, "I think that's enough for today." He walks over to Tris, saying something I cannot hear but whatever it is has only made her angrier. We put back our knives, eager to get out of the training room. Tris hangs back and we let her, knowing she needs to speak to Four. 

Eric catches my eye on the way out and I struggle to interpret the approving nod he gives me. Does he approve of my silence? I’d already seen what happens to initiates who speak out of turn and, especially with what happened to Tris, I’m relieved I kept quiet. Does he approve of my knife throwing skills? I did well, sure, but Eric isn’t one to give compliments freely though he seems more liberal with me. I don’t know what it means, but something tells me it isn’t that simple.

None of us say a word to each other as we head down for dinner. Al hangs his head, embarrassed, but no one makes a move to comfort him. I'm sure that my mother would be disappointed, but I just can't find it in me to care.


	7. There's A Constellation In Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No hate against astrology. Happy reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

After dinner the five of us split up, unable to escape the dark cloud of tension hanging overhead. I can't even look at Al after what happened during training, not if I want to hold on to any Amity parts of myself. I decide to wander around the Pit, passing by all the various shops Dauntless has to offer its members. 

I don't even notice that I'm traveling a familiar path until I find myself in front of the tattoo parlor. The place is empty, save for Bud who stands behind the counter deep in thought. The woman with whom he runs the place, Tori, is nowhere to be seen and I wonder belatedly if they've closed for the night. 

"Indie!" Bud shouts when he notices me standing there, grinning as he walks out from around the counter. "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't want to be around my friends right now." I admit, noticing the sketchbook in his hand. "Drawing something new?"

"Yes, for you." He smiles, holding it out for me to see. I shoot him a bewildered look as I step forward, but it softens into a smile as I see the piece. It's a series of tiny dots strung across the page into a linear formation, broken up by a small star every six or so dots. 

"It's lovely." I tell him, not just being polite but truly meaning it. "What is it?"

"It's a constellation." He explains, flipping to another page where he's sketched out a whole series of them. "They're a group of stars in the sky, the Erudite study them sometimes. The ancients used to think that the constellations had something to do with the way people behaved."

"Really?" I can’t keep the condemning judgment out of my voice. The idea is ludicrous, but so many of the ancient ideas were. 

"Yeah. The formation of the stars changes as the year goes on. They thought that the formation of when you were born determined the kind of person you would be."

"Well that's an…interesting theory."

"It's ridiculous, but it's fun to draw." He sets the sketchpad aside, waggling his eyebrows. He looks so giddy, like a kid who just found some sweets. The image clashes so harshly with his many piercings and tattoos I can't help but smile back. "So? Can I put it on?"

"Sure." I shrug, walking over to the nearest chair with a deep sigh. "I trust you."

Bud runs into the back to grab what he needs, leaving me alone. I melt into the plush tattoo chair and focus my gaze on the glowing red ceiling. My mind begins to wander before I can stop myself.

Eric confuses me. He's like a puzzle that I just can't solve and it's starting to drive me insane. One minute he's praising me, acknowledging my potential and giving me tips on how to succeed. The next, he's calling me weak and ordering my friend to stand in front of a target or hang over the chasm. His behavior is so topsy turvy sometimes I feel like I can’t tell what’s up and what’s down.

Even more maddening than his behavior is my inability to banish him from my thoughts. I find myself always thinking of him, seeking him out in a room and looking for his approval. I shouldn't be so hung up on him, not when I have initiation to pass and a dangerous secret to keep. Eric is bad for me, and I know it, yet my brain just doesn't seem to care. 

I remind myself of the warning Emily gave me, right after she administered my test.  _"If you tell the wrong person, you'll be dead in an instant."_  She'd said, pleading with me to take this seriously. I’m sure that Eric is exactly the sort of person to whom she was referring. 

"Sorry about that." Bud startles me out of my thoughts as he returns from the back, shooting an apologetic smile my way. "It took me a while to find clean towels, Tori moved them to behind the desk. I got you this, though."

He pulls out a tall green bottle, the label partially ripped off. Though the Amity enjoyed a drink every now and then for special occasions, dependents were never offered a sip. But, I'm not an Amity dependent anymore so I don't hesitate to take a swig. I cough as the amber liquid burns a fiery trail down my throat, but the fire soon melts into a full-body warmth. Bud doesn't say a word until he's ready to begin, asking where I want this one to go.

I point to just below my collarbone and stretch the length of my chest, shoulder to shoulder. It's low enough to hide beneath a neckline if I so chose, but high enough to leave my chest still modestly covered when I want it seen. He spreads a numbing salve across the expanse of my chest, careful to keep his hands from wandering too low. I sit back and relax, closing my eyes as the soft buzz of the machine fills my ears. 

"So did you guys have a fight or something?" He asks when he's about a quarter of the way across my chest. There's something about Bud that makes me trust him implicitly, so I decide I can tell him the truth. 

“No, not exactly. It’s just…I think one of my friends might have chosen the wrong faction.” Bud shoots me an intrigued look but he doesn’t interrupt, letting me do all the talking. It belatedly occurs to me that he’s probably the closest thing Dauntless has to a therapist. “He’s weak. Physically, he’s one of the strongest initiates but he doesn’t want to fight anyone. He doesn’t want to risk hurting them, but I’m not so sure he’d be willing to protect anyone if it came to a fight. Even outside of the fights he struggles. Shooting is a challenge for him, but throwing knives is even worse. He did so poorly today that Eric made him stand in front of the target!”

“Oh yeah, he does that sometimes.” Bud shrugs, as if this is all perfectly normal. It bothers me more than it should. “Did he flinch?”

“Didn’t get the chance to,” I grumble, wincing as he hits a tender spot, “Tris took his place.”

“Another initiate interfered with a punishment?” He whistles lowly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m surprised Eric didn’t throw them both out for it.”

“She gave this big speech about how he was being a bully and that standing in front of a target proved nothing. I thought he was going to kill her, or at least send her to the factionless. Instead he had her take Al’s place while Four threw the knives.”

“That takes nerve and a whole hell of a lot of guts. Even if Eric hated what she said, there’s no way he’d throw her out for showing that sort of bravery. He had her take your friend’s place to remind her that she’s a soldier, and he had Four throw the knives so that she wouldn’t truly be hurt.”

“I’m so scared she’s going to end up factionless or worse at the rate she’s going.” I confess, taking a big swig of the amber liquid. “She walks this fine line of brave and stupid. I admire it, yet I hate it all at the same time.”

“Sounds like you have a normal amount of concern for a friend during initiation.” He assures me, motioning for me to adjust my shirt so he can reach a spot below my throat better. “I’m assuming she survived?”

“The worst she got was a cut on her ear, though I’m pretty sure Four did that on purpose so Eric would let him stop.” I scowl, the free flowing alcohol loosening my tongue. “I hate him.”

“Four?”

“Eric. He’s so…so cruel and demanding and _confusing_. Like, one minute he’s yelling at me and telling me I’m weak then the next he’s complimenting me and giving me tips to win in fights. Then he turns right back into scary mean leader Eric who hangs my friends over the chasm or forces them to stand in front of a target. I don’t know why I even care. Sure, he’s my instructor and my leader but does his approval really matter that much to me?”

“Does it?” Bud asks, the alcohol masking the amusement in his voice.

“Yes! And I _hate_ that! Why do I care so much? Why do I look for him every time I walk into a room or do something good in training? He’s cruel and he’s vindictive and he finds way too much pleasure in watching us beat the hell out of each other and—”

“And you’re frustrated because despite all your best efforts you can’t stop thinking about him.” That shuts me up and I frown as the implication in his words hit me.

“I _do not_ like him.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“I don’t!”

“Whatever you say.” I don’t like where this conversation is headed and I glower, but Bud pays me no mind.

“I don’t like him.” I whine, my tone perfectly matching the juvenile discussion. “I hate him.”

“No, you don’t.” His voice grows gentle and I loathe the pity I see in his eyes.

I’m silent for the rest of the time, considering his take on the situation. Do I have feelings for Eric, feelings apart from loathing and frustration? I suppose it’s possible that, despite my best intentions, I’ve developed an emotional fixation on Eric. He’s a handsome man and I’m sure the ladies of Dauntless all fall at his feet, but it isn’t just his appearance that draws me in. It’s the secret smiles, the rare but earned praise, and the approving nods he sends me all throughout training. It’s entirely inappropriate for me to even entertain these thoughts, let alone act on them, but I suppose I have developed a crush on the cruel leader.

Ugh.

All the while I drink more of the amber liquid, the burning sensation all but gone. By the time Bud finishes the tattoo up, one final dot beside the bone of my shoulder, I'm buzzed. Not enough to be incapable of walking, but enough that I should stay clear of the chasm and any authority figures. 

“Can I give you some advice?” Bud lowers his voice, leaning in close even though the place doesn't have another soul in it. “Nothing else matters but you passing initiation. You need to watch out for yourself if you want to survive here. You're in Dauntless now and your kindness is a weakness here, not a strength. If you want to survive, you need to learn how to look out for yourself above anyone else. Friends are good and nice, but you can’t let them stand in your way. You’re a good person, Indie, and I’d like to see you stay here. We need more people like you in this place. Don't let _anyone_ stand in your way, not even—”

"Initiate!" A familiar voice booms at the door and I flinch, knowing exactly to whom it belongs. Judging by the amused look on Bud's face, he knows it too. "Curfew was ten minutes ago, why aren't you in your dorm?"

"My fault, Eric." Bud apologizes, turning around to face the fearless leader with a sheepish grin. "Her tattoo took a little bit longer than I had planned."

"Looks done to me." He replies coldly, steely grey eyes finding mine. "Let's go."

I don't argue, jumping up from the chair without another word. Bud gives me a small smile as I pass him, but even he cannot save me now. Eric doesn't say anything as I follow him down the halls, the Pit quieter than I've ever seen it before. It's only when we're one floor above the dorms that he stops, grabbing my arm and pulling me into a small alcove. It's tight quarters and dark, lit only by a small blue light on the wall. He doesn't say anything at first, the only sound the rushing waters of the chasm and our mixed breaths. 

"You two seemed cozy." He says, his voice kept carefully neutral. "Did I interrupt something?"

"So what if you did?" I snap, feeling the alcohol taking its toll. "Why do you care?"

"I don't." _Liar_ , I think. Judging from the sharp look he sends me, it’s entirely possible I said it aloud. "Relationships between members and initiates are strongly discouraged."

"Didn't know you were so invested in my sex life." I have no idea what I'm saying. I'm not even interested in Bud that way and I know neither is he, but I can’t stop myself from goading Eric.

"Hey!" He snaps, startling me as his fist slams into the wall just beside my head. "I am your leader, initiate, you don't talk that way to me."

"How exactly do you want me to talk to you?" I growl, surprising the both of us. "Yes sir, no sir, not a single individual thought can pass through my head sir—"

" _What_ is your problem?" 

"My problem is that you are a bully!" I shout, stabbing my finger into his chest. "You push and you push and when someone finally stands up to you you feel threatened, so you try to hurt them when all they did was try to protect their friend! Whatever happened to ordinary acts of bravery, huh? I thought the Dauntless cared about sticking up for others, about standing up to bullies not being them?"

"You think Al's refusal to go get his knife was an ordinary act of bravery?" He says, stepping uncomfortably close to me. I have nowhere to go but further back into the wall, a feat not physically possible. "He mouthed off to a leader, he tried use his cowardice to get out of following orders, and he allowed someone else to take his place for his own punishment!"

"A brave man can admit to being afraid—"

"A brave man acts in spite of his fear!" Eric isn't wrong, but I'm not about to tell him that. I don’t have a chance anyway as he plows on ahead. "A brave man follows the orders his superiors give to him without question! A brave man accepts the consequences of his actions, he doesn't let his friends take punishments for him! Al is not a brave man and we both know that he won't make it here! You're wasting your breath trying to defend him!"

"What about Tris, huh?" I argue, unable to let this go despite every part of my brain begging me to do so. "She was protecting her friend!"

"She was protecting a coward who doesn't deserve her pity, let alone her friendship!"

"It was an ordinary act of bravery! She stood up for someone who was being bullied, deserving of her help or not! You shouldn't have punished her for that, it was your damn pride that decided that not some twisted perception of the manifesto!" 

"Enough!" He shouts, so loud I'm sure that if anyone had walked by they would have heard. I shrink back, still so close to Eric I can feel his breath across my face. "Soldiers need to learn to fall in line. We're training you to be soldiers, above all else. If you can't handle that, then you shouldn't be here."

"Yes, sir." I snap, sarcastic. His eyes widen and he leans back, letting out a short laugh that sends a shot of electricity up my spine. 

"You've gotta learn when to shut the hell up, initiate."

"I will most certainly not be—" Whatever else I was going to say escapes my mind as Eric crashes his mouth onto mine. 

His lips are soft and his mouth is warm, rendering me temporarily speechless. A hand comes up to rest against my cheek, cupping it in his palm. The other crawls down the length of my spine, resting at the base just above the curve of my bum. I moan softly as he pulls me against him, warmth flooding through my veins.

It isn't until I feel his tongue poking at the seam of my lips, begging for entrance, that I realize what's happening. I shove him away from me, gasping as I try to catch my breath. He looks stunned, just as shocked by his actions as myself. I rear back my arm and slap him with all my might, no longer in control of my actions. His head snaps to the side and he reaches a hand up, obscuring his face from view. 

I push past him, out of the alcove and into the hallway. I run down the stairs to the dorm, passing not a single soul in the halls. I jump into bed and under the blankets, covering my mouth with my hand as I desperately try to get my breathing back under control. 

What the hell have I done?


	8. Capture the Flag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make the world go round. Just saying.

The dormitory is silent for once, save for the sounds of people breathing. Even Al makes no noise, having fallen asleep without tears for the first time since we arrived in Dauntless. Yet, my mind refuses to quiet. 

Eric was absent today. 

I can't help but wonder if it's because of what happened last night, but it feels arrogant to presume I am the reason. I try to push it from my mind, but it still affects me. I fell behind during our run today, not to the back but drastically behind my normal spot. I missed the bull’s eye shot after shot, but I managed to stay within a respectable distance from the center. I almost lost my fight to Molly, but a particularly cruel comment about my former faction woke me up. 

Four said nothing, but the curious looks he gave me throughout the day told me he took notice. There were a couple of times where he looked like he wanted to say something, but he always held his tongue. I knew that so long as I did well enough, he wouldn't say anything. 

Before I can dwell on these thoughts any longer, the door to the dormitory flies open. A large group of people with flashlights stream in, cheering wildly. Eric and Four are at the helm, faces stern as they steadfastly ignore each other. 

"Everybody up!" Eric shouts. It's impressive how fast everyone leaps from their beds at the sound of his voice. "You have five minutes to get dressed and meet us at the tracks! We're going on a little field trip."

The people with them hoot and holler at this, telling me that this will be no ordinary field trip. We took a field trip once, during lower levels, to visit the Hub where we would one day pick our factions. This seems like it’s going to be a lot more exciting than that. 

We're dressed in no time at all, sprinting our way up to the tracks. We pass by many members on our way up, none of whom seem surprised to see us. I wonder if a group of initiates running around the compound in the middle of the night is a common sight. 

We arrive at the same time as the Dauntless born and I bump my shoulder into Uriah's as we reach the roof. He grins, greeting us as he drags us over to where Marlene and Lynn stand. Beside the tracks is a misshapen black pile of something. As my eyes adjust to the darkness I make out a cluster of guns and boxes of ammunition. 

"Are we going to shoot something?" Christina hisses and Uriah laughs so loud he draws Eric's attention. He says nothing, merely raising an eyebrow as our eyes lock, and I quickly turn away. I look closer at the pile, letting out a laugh as I see "paintballs" written on the boxes. 

Eric orders us to grab a gun and a box of paintballs. I sling the gun across my back and shove the box into my pocket, surprised by how natural this feels. Two weeks in Dauntless and I've already adjusted to life with guns. 

"How much longer?" Eric asks Four, sounding bored. From the way his eyes light up as he looks at the pile and his inability to stay still, I know it's just an act. 

"Should be any minute now." Four tells him, checking his watch. "Which you would know, if you bothered to learn the train schedule."

"Why should I, when I have you to do it for me?" Eric grins, bumping his shoulder into Four's. If I didn't know them, I would say they could be friends. I'd seen enough during training to tell me that wasn't the case. 

Sure enough, just as Four said, the train approaches only moments later. We break into a sprint, some of us timing our ascensions better than others. I glide into the car, surprisingly graceful. The illusion is shattered when I bump right into Eric. 

"Careful." He smirks, lowering his voice as he leans in close. "These trains can be dangerous."

They aren't the only ones. 

Uriah sweeps me away before I can do something embarrassing, returning me to my friends. I don't dare to turn around, listening to Uriah report on the Dauntless born’s progress in fights. I don't know why I'm so surprised to hear him speak about Eric being present. I guess I'd just always assumed that he was with the transfers so much that he didn't check up on the Dauntless born. This could explain his absence during today's training. 

"Listen up!" Four shouts, quieting conversation immediately. "We'll divide into two teams to play a little game of capture the flag." The members on the train whoop and I can already tell this is a favorite among the Dauntless. "Each team will have an even mix of members, Dauntless-born, and transfers to keep it fair. One team will get off first and hide their flag, the second team will get off and do the same. Initiates, this is a Dauntless tradition but it is also a chance for us to see how you handle yourselves in tactical situations. I would suggest you take this seriously." 

"What do we get if we win?" Someone shouts from the other end of the car. I can't be sure, but I'm certain the voice belonged to Drew—of course. 

"That sounds like a question someone who isn't Dauntless would ask." Four replies, smirking. "You win, of course."

"Four and I will be your team captains." Eric says, looking to Four. "Let's start with the transfers, shall we?"

"Go right ahead." 

"Edward." I'm not surprised, Edward is the initiate with the highest rank at the moment. Four doesn't look surprised, nor does he look upset. 

"I'll take the Stiff." Everyone looks surprised, even Tris. She shuffles forward, avoiding our eyes, but I shoot her an encouraging smile nonetheless.

"Planning to have someone to blame when you lose?" Eric sneers. 

"Something like that." Four deflects, gesturing for him to continue. 

"Peter."

"Indie." I'm confused, unable to follow Four's strategy. Eric looks annoyed and I don't know why, it's not like I'd be much help to him either. One kiss in the dark does not suggest strategic prowess. I join Tris, both of us sharing a look of bewilderment. 

"Molly."

"Christina."

"Al."

"Will."

"Drew."

"Myra, get over here." Four orders when she is the last initiate remaining. She looks bothered to not be on Edward's team and I can only hope she'll be of some use to us. It might be just a game, but Four told us to take it seriously so I am. 

They pick the Dauntless born next. Four gets Uriah, Lynn, Marlene, and two others whose names I forget almost as soon as they're said. Four chooses four members, none of whom I have ever seen before. I can't shake the disappointment I feel when Eric snags Bud, the only member with whom I am acquainted. I'm surprised, since Eric still looks pissed after the other night, but Bud seems unruffled. He gives me a cheerful wave from across the train.

After a brief argument disguised as a discussion, it's decided that our team will jump off first. I land smoother than I did the first time, stumbling only a little. Uriah gives me a high five, looking like a proud parent. 

"So where should we go?" Christina asks, looking eager. 

"Where did your team put the flag when you won?" Marlene asks Four. He brushes her off, reminding her that this is to test our ability to strategize not follow old plans. 

"Navy Pier." Uriah answers, ignoring the look Four shoots him. "My brother was on his team, they hid it at the carousel."

"Seems as good a place as any to start." Will shrugs and we start to head that way. I've never been to the Navy Pier, it's always belonged to the Dauntless. But I've seen it in the distance, sometimes lit up at night when the Dauntless are there. I now know what they did. 

It feels like we walk for forever until we reach the Ferris wheel, pausing to look it over. I can't believe people used to ride that, and for fun no less. I've never been afraid of heights, but the decrepit cars and sketchy structure make me uneasy. We walk down the pier past a bunch of depressing and dilapidated buildings. Once we reach the carousel we come to a stop and Four speaks. 

"The other team will pick their location in ten minutes." He informs us, his face the usual shade of serious with which I am familiar. "I recommend you take that time to form a strategy. This isn't Erudite, but mental preparedness is one part of your training for Dauntless. I daresay it's the most important part."

I don't disagree with him. You can only fight for so long if your mind isn't in it. 

"Some people should stay here to guard while the rest go scout the other team." Will proposes, taking the flag from Four. 

"Yeah? Who put you in charge, transfer?" Lynn gripes, plucking the flag from Will's fingers. 

"Nobody, but someone needs to do it." Will's reply is calm, but I can see the annoyance on his face. 

"Maybe we should go the defensive route, wait for them to come to us and then take them out." Christina suggests, shooting Lynn a look. 

"That's a sissy way to do things." Uriah pipes up and I almost smack him. None of this back and forth is helping. "We go all out. Hide the flag so they can't find it and blitz them."

All at once everyone begins to speak, voices growing steadily louder as they talk over each other. The Dauntless born take the perspective of an offensive tactic, blitz and overpower. The transfers argue for a more refined strategy equal in defense and offense. The members simply look on, amused. Four sits down on the edge of the carousel, ignoring us as he looks up to the sky. 

I notice Tris watching him closely before she snaps herself out of it, thinking hard. I feel like I can see the light bulb illuminate above her head as she turns on her heel, heading for the Ferris wheel. Four watches her, too, and he starts to follow once he realizes where she's going. I decide to hang back with the rest of group and let them play that out on their own. 

The two unknown Dauntless born are arguing with Christina and Will. Marlene and Myra hover nearby, serving as backup. I wander over to where Uriah and Lynn stand off to the side, observing. I don't know what makes me do it, especially now, but I figure without Four close by I have more freedom to speak. 

"So Eric watched your fights today." I say, casual as can be. Lynn shoots me a bewildered look, while Uriah looks curious. "How was that?"

"Fine, I guess." She speaks slow, suspicious. "He didn't hang any of us over the chasm, if that's what you're asking."

"Ah. So you heard about that."

"Everyone heard about that." Uriah chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Has he ever done anything like that to you guys?"

"No. Eric's tough, but he's fair." Lynn answers. "As long as you work hard and don't give up, he'll leave you alone."

"Has he been bothering you or something?" Uriah asks me. 

He praised me, then he called me weak. He gave me a tip on how to fight Peter, then he threw knives at my friend. He yelled at me, then he kissed me. 

"No, not really." I say finally. "I was just wondering if he treats you guys any different."

"Well, he's not with us that often," Lynn begins, looking thoughtful, "but when he is, he's tough. He makes us do things perfectly over and over and over again until he's satisfied." 

"There's a lot of pressure on him, being the youngest leader. I guess he just wants to make sure that he's training members who are going to be up to par." Uriah tells me, his voice soft. There's a knowing look in his eyes that I steadfastly ignore. "Eric's an ass, but he's not as cruel as everyone thinks." 

"He says that initiation's supposed to wear us down to who we really are." Lynn says. "I guess that way he can see who's fit to be here, and who's not."

Before we can discuss it further, I notice Tris and Four are returning from the Ferris wheel. Her cheeks are flushed, deepening whenever she glances at Four, but her eyes are alight. She interrupts the argument to tell us where the other team's flag is and from there we make a plan. 

A member named Gunnar, a Dauntless born I now know to be Beth, and Myra stay behind to guard the flag. The rest of us head for where the other team—and their flag—is hiding. Four, Tris, and Christina head to retrieve the flag while the rest of us are assigned to cover them. 

As soon as the other team spots us, it devolves into madness. Paint goes flying every which way, puffs of air echoing in my ears as I dive behind a brick wall. Uriah and I are still together, back to back as we shoot in either direction. 

I shriek as bright pink paint explodes above my head, just narrowly missing my auburn braid. Uriah pulls me back and we run around the wall, finding new cover. We're crouched down with our guns drawn, silent save for our harsh pants. We hear footsteps approaching us from the left and we wait with bated breath to see who’s coming. Bud slips around the corner, but he does not see us. Instead, he seems to be arguing with someone and as soon as I hear his voice I know it's Eric. 

"Bullshit that was an accident!" He spits, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen the former Amity. It's only then that I notice the bright green paint splattered across his chest. "Look, I get that you're pissed about yesterday but I already told you nothing happened!"

"I don't care what or who you do in your free time." Eric growls, his face bearing the same expression it did when Al admitted he was afraid. "But when it's one of my initiates, then we have a problem. And it _was_ an accident!"

Uriah looks at me but I ignore him, too focused on the argument to do anything to dissuade him from the path I know his thoughts are heading down.

"You know, we've got something in common, you and I." Bud continues, as if Eric hadn't even spoken. "Neither of us are dating _your_ initiate. The difference is that you want to, and I don't. So stop being so fucking angry with me for something that's not even happening. If you want to date In—"

Whatever else Bud was going to say is cut short by the sounds of loud whooping in the distance. Uriah and I jump up, looking over the wall just in time to see Tris step out onto the bell tower with the flag in hand. We cheer and go running, racing for the tower. 

We pass by Peter, who has four large splotches of paint on his chest. He glowers, kicking the wall and tossing his gun to the ground. I throw my arms around Tris as soon as I reach her, the two of us dissolving into giggles as we nearly topple over. Uriah claps her on the back and Tris grins, her gaze moving to a grinning Four. I seek Eric out in the crowd unconsciously, surprised to find his gaze already locked on mine. He looks furious and I'm sure it’s not just because of his defeat. 


	9. Spread Your Wings and Learn to Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know why, but I struggled with writing this chapter the most. I kept being blocked by writer’s block at every turn and then when I did have the motivation to write the words just wouldn’t come. I’m not terribly thrilled with how it came out, but I think it’s a solid enough chapter to stand on its own. Let me know what you think, reviews make the world go round :)

"It's so beautiful!" Christina exclaims, pretending to weep as she clutches the other team's glowing flag. We laugh at her dramatics as we walk back to the train tracks, spirits high and giddy from our victory.

I can feel Uriah's eyes burning a hole into the back of my head but I ignore him, not yet ready to discuss what we overheard. I can tell he’s wanted to say something since we met up with the others, but I know he won't say it in front of everyone. It's safe to assume he's put the pieces together, given our earlier discussion. Eric and Bud weren't exactly dancing around the subject either, so I am almost certain he knows.

"I wish I'd been on your team." Al laments with a heavy sigh as he joins us, nodding in Eric's direction up ahead. "I'm sure Eric's going to be even more difficult to deal with tomorrow."

"Oh I'm sure this won't be the only thing upsetting Eric." Uriah quips and I shoot him a sharp look. "But who knows, maybe you'll get lucky and he'll come bother us instead."

"Yeah, maybe he'll make you do something fun like dangle over the chasm or throw knives at each other!" Christina tells him, faux cheer lighting up her face.

"We already know not to back down, I think we're safe." He teases her, but there's a sharp edge to his voice I hope she doesn't catch for the sake of maintaining the peace. "Besides, that's child's play compared to some of the shit we did growing up."

"Indie!" Bud shouts, catching up to us with an elated grin. The others look puzzled by our familiarity, except for Uriah who looks uncomfortable. "Congratulations, you guys did great out there!"

"Thanks, Bud, but the credit should go to Tris." I correct him, grinning as she flushes with embarrassment at the attention. "She's the one who saw your flag and came up with our strategy."

"Aye, but a good plan can only do so much if there isn't a team willing to embrace it." He counters as everyone brightens considerably, looking pleased with themselves. I shoot him a grateful look and he winks in response, knowing what he was doing. "Now, it's time for your reward."

"I thought Four said the winning team didn't get a reward?"

"Not in any official capacity, no. But it's tradition for members to take the winning team on a little adventure." He explains, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "You guys in?"

"Sure." I say without a moment's hesitation as the rest of us chime in.

"You can come too." Bud invites Al once everyone has agreed, his face kind. Bud might look like a Dauntless on the outside, but I can still see the bits of Amity still left in him. "It's a celebration for the winning team, but everyone's welcome."

"That's alright, I'm going to need some sleep to deal with Eric tomorrow." He declines, shooting us encouraging smiles. "Go, have fun without me."

"You sure?" I check and he nods, looking genuinely pleased for us.

"Absolutely. I'll see you guys tomorrow." He excuses himself, jogging to catch up with Edward and Myra. I don't bother pointing out that Myra was on the winning team too since I know she won't want to leave Edward.

"So what is this adventure?" Will asks Bud, ever the Erudite. Bud doesn't look annoyed by his curiosity, instead he simply grins.

"Anyone ever wanted to learn how to fly?"

* * *

"This is insane!" Christina huffs as we jog up the stairs in the Hub, out of breath despite our daily runs each morning.

"This is Dauntless." I remind her, grinning as she shoots me an annoyed look at my even breathing. "That's what makes it fun."

Bud was able to slip us away from the rest of the initiates, unnoticed—though I did spy Four and Eric pointedly ignoring our escape. We waited until the others boarded the train back to Dauntless before we hopped onto the next. We jumped off at the Hub in no time at all, not yet understanding what the members had planned. It wasn't until Bud led us over to jog up the stairs to the roof, not wanting to turn on the elevators past curfew, that we began to figure it out.

"Wow!" I gasped as we finally reached the top, spying the incredible view we had of the whole city. "It's so beautiful up here."

"We had a pretty great view of the city in Candor." Christina tells me in a low voice, looking out at the view with a serene expression. "It's the only thing I miss. But, if I can come up here any time I want then I have nothing to miss."

I can only smile in response, patting her shoulder before we envelope ourselves in the fold. The members stand around, chatting amongst themselves. They break into hoots and hollers once they spot us, patting our backs and congratulating us on our win.

I watch as a man who looks just like Uriah, presumably the older brother he mentioned earlier, tackles him to the ground. Tori stands a short distance away, smiling warmly as she chats with Tris. Bud bumps my shoulder playfully as he walks by, going over to greet some friends.

Soon enough we're introduced to everyone up there. I learn that the man who tackled Uriah is indeed his brother, Zeke. His girlfriend, Shauna, introduces herself as Lynn's sister and I have to do a double take. They look nothing alike, except for their eyes, but their relation is all in their mannerisms.

I meet many more members, whose names regrettably escape me almost as soon as they're told to me. After a short while Zeke stands up on the ledge, calling for order. He explains to us, if we didn't already figure it out, that we'll be zip lining. He shows us the harnesses we'll be using, how they work, and gives a stern warning to pull up in time or else. Then, he asks for volunteers.

Unlike when we first jumped onto the roof, we are all quick to volunteer. Some of the older Dauntless members are picked to go first so they can catch us at the base. The rest of us form a line and Uriah goes first, followed by Lynn, Will, Christina, Tris, myself, then Marlene.

Uriah goes head first, shouting so loud we can still hear him when he reaches the bottom. Lynn is silent the whole way down and Shauna chuckles, saying she's never been one to verbalize her fear. Will laughs the whole way down and Christina cheers, arms extended like wings. Tris starts off quiet, but she lets out a joyous whoop halfway through that continues all the way down.

When it's my turn I don't hesitate, stepping up to the platform and strapping myself into the harness. I ignore the lead-like ball of fear in the pit of my stomach, taking deep breaths as I shuffle over to the edge. I tell myself that I can do this, that I'm Dauntless now. Dauntless don't get scared.

"You ready?" Bud asks. I know he's only asking if I'm ready to zip line, but it feels like he's asking so much more. I shoot him a grin and nod, feeling the fear melt away as I ready myself for what comes next. He gives me one final pat on the back before pushing me forward, sending me on my way.

I feel like every nerve ending in my body has suddenly come alive and I let out an exhilarated laugh as I begin to soar. The rush of wind in my face and the whooshing sound that fills my ears makes my heart beat faster, elated. I feel free, like there’s nothing on this Earth that can stop me from up here.

I can see the whole city, from the farms of Amity to the gray squares of Abnegation homes. I can see the Erudite headquarters, puzzled by the sight of their lights on at this hour but I brush that thought aside for the time being. I can see the Candor building, the unbalanced scales symbolizing their faction illuminated at the top. I can see the Dauntless compound and the roof I jumped onto my first day. I laugh as I pass by the Navy Pier, scoffing now at the Ferris wheel. I feel like I can do anything now that I'm flying through the sky.

I'm struck by a sense of déjà vu, remembering when I broke my arm at five years old. I'd climbed up the tallest tree in Amity, trying to find my father out in the fields. I had stumbled on the tallest branch and plummeted to the Earth in seconds. Even then, despite the terror, I'd felt exhilarated on my way down because it was like I was actually flying. Maybe I was Dauntless all along and just never realized it.

I can hear cheering from below as I descend to where my friends are waiting. I wait until just the right moment to pull back on the harness, slowing myself down. I land just above the crowd, struggling to unclip myself. I land with a whoosh and a giggle once I succeed, feeling like every nerve ending is on fire once I'm placed on my feet to raucous cheering.

My heart is racing, my palms are sweating, and all I want is to feel like this every second of every day. I suddenly understand that this is what it feels to be Dauntless. It feels like the most intoxicating drug in the world and I don't ever want to stop.

* * *

When we get back to Dauntless, I shouldn't be as surprised as I am to find the Pit is still alive with activity. The members bid us farewell before going to join the party, while us initiates head for bed. I'm not sure how any of us can expect to sleep though, what with how awake I feel.

Uriah gives Christina a piggyback ride, shrieking as they charge through the crowd. The members give them a wide berth, though they look amused by the sight rather than annoyed. Marlene and Lynn discuss the fights, predicting who will be paired together tomorrow. Will and Tris discuss the Erudite and the lights we all noticed were on.

I don't contribute to either conversation, content to just listen. I take in the sight of the rocky cavernous walls of the Pit, awed. I can't imagine a life not in Dauntless, now that I've gotten a taste of how it feels. It gives me the drive to work even harder than I have to stay here, unwilling to ever part with this feeling.

Uriah and Christina slow down, pulling back to join us once more. Christina jumps off his back, joining the training conversation as Uriah sidles up beside me. He watches the others to make sure they're not listening, keeping his voice low just in case.

"So. You and Bud." He's acting casual about it, but I can sense his disapproval.

"Are friends." I finish for him, shrugging. "I vent about training, he gives me tattoos. It's simple."

"How about you and Eric? Is that simple?"

"Eric and I aren't anything." I insist. He looks doubtful, but I elaborate anyway. "He kissed me, once. I hit him."

"You hit him?" He gasps, looking stunned. I nod and he laughs, shaking his head like he just can't believe it. "I can't believe you're not factionless right now."

"Me neither." I confide in him, remembering how terrified I felt afterwards as I walked back to the dorm. "I thought for sure he was going to kick me out."

"I don't think he would actually kick you out." He tells me, smiling at my puzzled expression. "I think he might actually like you."

"What? No way." I deny him immediately, though even I have considered this idea. It would explain him kissing me and his anger towards Bud. The conversation we overheard suggested Eric might have feelings, but it didn't confirm them.

"Just...be careful, Indie." He warns me, his expression unusually serious. "You're a good friend and I think you'd make a great member. I want you to stay in this faction for a very long time. Don't let yourself get distracted by some stupid guys."

"Did you just call Eric and Bud stupid?" I laugh and he nods, looking pleased with himself. "Eric would definitely make you factionless for that."

"Nah, I'm his favorite Dauntless born initiate." He shrugs, but he looks nervous as he continues. "Though, maybe don't tell him…just to be safe."

"Your secret's safe with me." I promise him, sticking my pinky out like we used to do in Amity. He looks bewildered before he lets out a barking laugh, drawing the attention of our friends. Regardless, he wraps his pinky around mine and we shake on it.

Later that night when I'm tucked into my bed beneath the warm covers, I let Uriah's words run through my head. I want to stay in Dauntless, more than I've ever wanted anything in my whole life. Whatever could be with Eric or even with Bud can wait until after I finish initiation. I vow to put my focus on initiation and initiation only for nothing else matters but passing.

But, as I drift off to sleep, I allow myself to fantasize about a life in Dauntless as a member. I dream of a career built on protecting the people of this city from whatever harms might arise. I imagine a daily life filled with wonderful friends and exhilarating adventures like the one we had tonight. I even allow myself to imagine the possibility of a man by my side with a wide array of piercings and tattoos, a cruel smirk always poised on his face, and intoxicatingly deep blue eyes.


	10. The Breaking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are officially in the double digits, people! I’m thinking this thing is going to end up being around 30 or so chapters based on what I have planned but, knowing me, that’s entirely subject to change. In honor of it being the tenth chapter, I’ve decided to try out something new. We’re going to jump back in time a little bit, to chapter seven, and revisit a pretty important scene from a different perspective. Let me know what you think of it and if you’d like to see more of this story from other characters’ views. As always, thank you for reading and may you feel inspired to leave a review.

I wake early the next morning, feeling refreshed despite the late ending to last night’s adventures. Everyone is still asleep so I go alone to breakfast, not minding the solitude. The dining hall is all but empty, save for a few clearly hungover members scattered about. I eat quickly before deciding to go on a run.

Even though Four cancelled our run today, it's become such an ingrained habit I know I cannot go without it or else I’ll feel off balance all day. I run the same path that we always do, altering it only towards the end to avoid the factionless sector. I may be a trained fighter at this point, but I am still an initiate alone and without a weapon.

I'm on my fourth or fifth mile when I spot a figure in the distance crouched down by the entrance to the compound. I can't see what they're doing from here, but I can tell they're fiddling with something at the base of the door. I slow my speed as I approach, trying to discern if they're Dauntless or factionless but it’s difficult from this distance. I open my mouth to say something, what I do not know, when their head turns and I’m locked in Eric's icy blue gaze.

I come to a halt, stumbling on the dirt road as I freeze in place. He raises an eyebrow, his piercing catching the first few tendrils of sun, and smirks infuriatingly as he rises. He walks slowly, leisurely, as if he hasn't a care in the world this morning. I'm still stuck in the same spot when he reaches me.

"Good game last night." He drawls, still smirking even as his eyes flash dangerously. "Do you always make it a habit to eavesdrop on other people's conversations?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping!" I snap, though it's only half true. "I was hiding from _your_ team. You're the one who didn't notice me standing right there."

"How much did you hear?"

"I didn't hear anything."

"I don't believe you."

"Yeah, well, that's your prerogative." I know I'm playing with fire and I do know better, but I can't seem to hold my tongue when Eric comes around. "How about you, huh? Do you have a habit of kissing random initiates?"

“I don’t.” He clears his throat, the smirk fading as he flushes a deep red. “And you’re not some random initiate. But I am sorry for that. I should have asked first, or something.”

“We were having a heated argument.” I drop my gaze, an awkward tension I don’t like fizzling up between us. “You got…caught up. In the heat of the moment.”

“We were having a moment?” I blush furiously and I suppose something in my expression compels him to show mercy. “It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have lost control like that. It won’t happen again.”

"Good." I say, even as a small part of me deflates at the notion. "Because it would be…bad. If it happened again."

"Right. Bad." He opens his mouth, as if to say something more, but I cut him off as I notice the time on his watch. I must have lost track of time because it says I only have ten minutes to get to training.

"I have to go!" I push past him, tossing an apologetic gaze over my shoulder. "I’ll see you in training!"

The sun has fully risen by the time I make it up to the Pit and I walk a little faster in the halls to make sure I am on time. I know that I'm not late when I walk in, since a few of the initiates are still missing. I'm out of breath as I flop down beside Christina, cursing myself for not grabbing a watch.

Her expression is sympathetic as she passes me a water bottle, shrugging off my gratitude. Tris walks in soon after and I'm immediately concerned. She's practically vibrating with anger as she sits beside us, silent as she looks to the chalkboard. Neither of our names have been written yet and I hope I won't have to fight her. 

"Tris?" Al's voice is gentle when he speaks to our friend, but his expression is weary. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." She snaps. I can't suppress the relieved sigh I emit when Four writes in my name next to Drew. 

"Are you sure?" Al persists, despite the warning look Christina shoots him. "You seem a little…on edge."

Tris doesn't bother responding, her eyes glued to the chalkboard. She smirks when Molly's name appears beside her own and for the first time I pity the large girl. I can only imagine that Molly had something to do with Tris being late, but I don't dare to ask her now.

"Today is the last day of stage one." Eric startles us all as he appears in the room, looking as bored as always. He speaks to the whole room, but his eyes keep wandering to mine. Despite the tension between us after last night and our conversation this morning, I find myself unfazed by it. "Rankings will be posted the day after tomorrow, at the end of Visiting Day."

I feel as shocked as everyone looks, having completely forgotten about Visiting Day. It seems like just yesterday that I cut my hand over the coals, but it was much longer than that. I wonder if my mother will come, but I push that thought away as I return my focus to Eric. 

"Cuts will be made the following morning. If you're cut, you cannot return to your old faction. You will be factionless. It is possible to improve your ranking in the next two stages, but it is unlikely to happen. Initiation is not meant to be easy because life in Dauntless is never easy." Eric's voice is harsh, but there is no trace of cruelty in his eyes. "This is your last chance to prove you didn't make a mistake in choosing Dauntless."

The atmosphere in the room is tense as we realize this is our last chance to prove ourselves. Even Edward looks anxious and he's been the highest-ranking initiate since we got here. I try to remind myself of last night, of the way that I felt getting even just a taste of life in Dauntless. I tell myself to hold on to that, to let it drive me to do the best that I can. 

First up are Will and Myra. Myra hasn't won a single fight so far, yet she looks serene as she steps into the ring. Their fight is over as quickly as it began, with Myra left unconscious on the mat.

Al and Christina are up next. Even with the threat of being factionless hanging over our heads, it's a quick fight. Al is still unwilling to fight his friends and I know that he will pay for it. He crumples after a few hard hits to the face and Christina's declared the winner. 

Edward and Peter fight after them. I feel only the tiniest bit of sympathy as Peter crumples after a particularly nasty hit. It soon fades when I think of the way he's treated Tris. Once he's drug out of the ring, it's my turn. 

I'm not scared to fight Drew, having beaten him once before. He puts up a good fight, managing to kick me in the stomach so hard I know he left a bruise. Eric winces in sympathy as he watches, an action I'm almost certain was unconscious. In the end, I claim victory as one final blow to the face forces him down. 

Tris seems like she's ready to burst by the time her fight rolls around and even Eric looks alarmed. She walks into the ring at a slow pace, an aura of deadly calm emanating from her. I can't help but think Molly is a fool to not look more concerned as she flounces into the ring, expression excited. She makes a quiet comment to Tris, something unkind judging by her sneer, but Tris doesn't even flinch. 

Four has just barely finished telling them to begin when Tris strikes, punching Molly in the throat. She gasps and stumbles back, clearly not expecting the blow to come so quick. Tris shows her no mercy, landing an uppercut to her jaw before aiming a kick to the back of her knees. Molly slams her nose into Tris's fist on her way down, curling into a ball as she smacks into the floor. 

Tris does not relent, kicking her even as it's becoming increasingly clear that Molly is down. Four is the first to snap out of it, yanking Tris by the arm away from the unconscious girl. She fights against him, itching to keep fighting, but his hold does not loosen. 

"You won, it's done." He tells her, his voice leaving no room for argument. She looks down at Molly's battered body, her face unreadable. Her face is covered in blood and her eyes are wide with alarm when she notices Tris standing over her still. 

Tris is calm as she walks back over to us, like nothing had just happened. Four takes a few more moments to compose himself before dismissing us for lunch. Eric stays put in his spot leaning against the wall, looking uncertain of how to proceed.

Abnegation and Amity aren’t that different when it comes to their views on violence. When I do finally manage to catch Tris’s eye, I expect to see a reflection of how I feel each time I win a fight. Instead, I see nothing. She looks neither satisfied with her actions nor regretful of them. I don’t know what it says about her that she doesn’t seem the least bit guilty for what she just did to Molly.

I don’t know what it says about me that I don’t care.

* * *

_Eric Coulter_

* * *

The Pit is quiet when I return to the compound and I welcome the peace, for once. The meeting with Jeanine had been derailed by our argument, but I felt justified. I might be handing over my soldiers to her serum control, but they’re still _my_ soldiers.

I only regret storming away like a petulant toddler, well aware that she’s likely already told Max of my immature and irrational response. Max dislikes Jeanine, I daresay he’d be much happier cooperating with the Amity, but he’s willing to work with her because of the incentives she presented. I couldn’t care less about the powerful position she’s promised to me in her new government. I only care about ridding this city of those animals that murdered my sister.

I try to not think of Amelia often, though I know it is a disgrace to her memory. We were always close growing up, despite the seven year age gap, and it felt like a piece of me had died right along with her. I’d admired my sister, both for her incredible intellect and her refusal to cower to Jeanine. I know that if she were still alive she would be ashamed of my unwillingness to do the same.

But she is not alive. She is dead, has been since the day I turned thirteen, and I daresay her refusal to see what Jeanine saw is what killed her. Divergents are a threat to our way of life and if she’d been able to see that sooner then maybe she’d still be alive.

I know that many would disagree with what we’re doing and sometimes even I have my doubts. I question if eradicating the Divergents is worth the cost of my faction. Then I remember the spell of depression my mother fell into and never crawled out from, the loss of my father’s sobriety and once thriving career, and the end of my childhood. I remember the death of my sister’s potential, all of the late hours and hard work she put into her research being all for naught. Then I’m reminded that there’s nothing this mission isn’t worth sacrificing.

I try to banish these dark thoughts from my mind as I walk back to my quarters, exhausted from this day that just refuses to end. Loathed as I am to admit it, I cannot place the blame for my mood entirely upon Jeanine’s shoulders. Al showed incredible cowardice during training and I was left with no choice but to dole out a punishment. I do regret punishing the stiff for standing up for her friend, even though he did not deserve it. I acted the part of a bully, but I’ll never admit it aloud.

Even worse is the way Indie looked at me. Her expression is burned into my brain, flashing up behind my eyelids every time I blink. The anger, the disapproval, all of it was loud and clear in her eyes. The look she gave me was almost enough to convince me to put a stop to it, cut the punishment short and let it go but Max would have my head if he knew I showed weakness because of a girl. I know a small part of her, deep down, understands if the way she looked at Al is any indication. Even so, I can’t shake the feeling of shame that bubbles up within me when I remember her face.

I decide to treat myself to a new tattoo, hoping it will make me feel better or at least take my mind off of this day. I do not have a design in mind, but Bud is always keen to draw me up something unique. I’m thrilled to see the lights are still on in the parlor, telling me it’s not too late. The sight that greets me causes my stomach to sink so low I know not even a tattoo will be enough to improve my mood.

Indie lounges back in the chair, sporting new ink across the expanse of her chest. Bud is a professional, this I know, and the ink is situated a modest distance away from her cleavage. Despite this, a spark of jealousy beyond my control ignites in my chest as I see how closely Bud has leaned in to her. I can’t hear what he’s saying to her, but the enamored expression on her face fills me with an unstoppable rage. I’ve seen enough and before I can stop myself, I speak.

"Initiate!" I thunder, startling the both of them. Indie flinches, her face flushing as she leans back away from Bud. The bastard just looks amused, a fact that only serves to annoy me further. "Curfew was ten minutes ago, why aren't you in your dorm?"

"It’s my fault, Eric." Bud apologizes, softening his expression into one of contrition as he finally clues in to my foul mood. "The piece took a little bit longer than I had planned, I lost track of time."

"It looks done to me." I retort, my voice cold as ice. I think that the next time I’m in need of some new ink I’ll be paying Tori a visit. "Time to go."

Indie jumps out of the chair like it's caught on fire, not sparing Bud a second glance as she follows me from the parlor. I ignore her as we walk down the halls, stewing in my anger as I let it build. I am disgusted with myself to be so consumed by something as petty as jealousy, especially since I have no claim over her and no right to feel this way. Yet, despite my best intentions, I cannot fight these feelings. 

We're almost to the dorms and I still haven't said a word to her. I struggle between not wanting to make this worse and needing to speak to her. I make my decision as we pass a secluded alcove, out of view of the cameras that cover this place like an epidemic. I pull her in with me, trying to figure out the best way to handle this without making things worse.

"So," I start off, going for casual, "you two seemed cozy. Did I interrupt something?"

"So what if you did?" She snaps and I'm surprised by the defiant glint in her eyes. I wasn’t expecting this reaction and it makes me nervous that I read the situation correctly when I walked into the parlor. "Why do you care?"

"I don't." I reply as calmly as I can muster. Judging by the look on her face, she doesn't believe me either. "Relationships between members and initiates are strongly discouraged."

"Didn't know you were so invested in my sex life." I am simultaneously stunned, enraged, and aroused by her defiance. It’s a way I’m not used to feeling and it sets me off kilter.

"Hey!" I snap, losing control as I slam my first into the wall just beside her head. I can feel all of the feelings I keep carefully wound up tight slipping from my grasp, but I don’t put up a fight. "I am your leader, initiate, you don't speak that way to me."

"How exactly do you want me to speak to you?" She practically spits the words out and I’m amused for a split second. The contrast between the timid girl from Amity I met on the roof who could barely look me in the eyes and the one standing before me with a fresh tattoo and a defiant glint in her eyes is startling. "Yes sir, no sir, not a single individual thought can pass through my head sir—"

" _What_ is your problem?" I ask her even as I know deep down that _I_ am her problem. 

"My problem is that you are a bully!" She shouts, stabbing her finger into my chest. The words hurt far more than the action but I still wince anyway. "You push and you push and you push and when someone finally stands up to you you feel threatened, so you try to hurt them when all they did was try to protect their friend! Whatever happened to ordinary acts of bravery, huh? I thought the Dauntless cared about sticking up for others, about standing up to bullies not being them?"

I know she’s right, for the most part, but I’m not about to tell her that. She’s been in this faction for all of five minutes and while she’s learned so much in such a short span of time, there is still much for her to learn. She’s not one of us, at least not yet.

"You think Al's refusal to go get his knife was an ordinary act of bravery, huh?" I retort, stepping closer to her. I know it's not fair to do this, she has nowhere to go unless she can find a way to melt into the wall, but I'm too fired up to care. "He mouthed off to a leader, he tried use his cowardice to get out of following orders, and he allowed someone else to take his place for punishment!"

"A brave man can admit to being afraid—" Maybe he can, but he doesn't flee like a coward. Al is not a brave man. 

"A brave man acts in spite of his fear! A brave man follows the orders his superiors give to him! A brave man accepts the consequences of his actions, he doesn't let his supposed friends take it for him! Al is not a brave man and you and I both know that he won't make it here! You're wasting your breath trying to defend him!"

"What about Tris, huh?" She carries on, not ready to let this go. "She was protecting her friend!"

She was protecting her friend who would _never_ do the same for her. 

"She was protecting a coward who doesn't deserve her pity, let alone her friendship!"

"It was an ordinary act of bravery! She stood up for someone who was being bullied, deserving of her help or not! You shouldn't have punished her for that, it was your damn pride that decided that not some twisted perception of the manifesto!" 

"Enough!" I shout, certain that if someone were to walk by they would hear me. "Soldiers need to learn to fall in line. We're training you to be soldiers, above all else. If you can't handle that, then you shouldn't be here."

"Yes, sir." Her words may be respectful, but her tone is all sarcasm. I'm so stunned I can’t stop myself from letting out a harsh chuckle, in awe of her insolence. 

"You've gotta learn when to shut the hell up, initiate." I tell her as I think of exactly how I would prefer to shut her up. 

"I will not be—" I decide to stop fighting it, too overwhelmed to hold on to my self-control.

I push my lips onto hers and I can practically feel the moment her mind goes blank. She’s inexperienced, I can tell from the uncertain way her lips move against my own, but I don’t mind. Her lips are soft and her mouth is warm and I never want this moment to end. I trace a hand up her neck to cradle her cheek in my palm, holding her mouth securely to my own. The other floats down to the base of her spine as I pull her body up against mine. A thrill runs through me when she lets out a soft moan and melts into me languidly. I push my tongue against her lips, begging for entrance, and I know the spell is broken from the way she tenses up.

She shoves me away from her and I don’t put up a fight, smacking my head into the opposite wall. I feel as if a cold bucket of water has been dumped on my head, dread filling the pit of my stomach as the realization of the line I’ve just crossed comes crashing down on me. I’m not at all surprised when she slaps me cross the face. Despite the pain radiating all the way across my face, as her instructor I’m impressed by the strength in her hit.

She pushes past me and I let her go without a fight, so mortified by my own loss of control I don’t even think if I should try to stop her. I feel ashamed of myself for the first time in a long time, not allowing myself to feel anything since the moment I agreed to sell out my faction to Jeanine. I want to crawl into a hole and die, never wanting to see the light of day again if it means having to feel this way.

I feel every bit the worthless creep I know everyone thinks I am.


	11. On the Fence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the book, the fence is chain-link but I’m modeling this one after the fence we see in the movies. I’m also super confused about whether the Amity live inside or outside of the fence but for the purposes of this fic we’re just going to assume that the living quarters and some of the orchards of Amity are inside the fence while the farms are outside. Remember, reviews make the world go round.

It’s still dark when we trudge out to the train tracks the following morning. The Dauntless born have beat us up here, though they look much less excited for this field trip than our last. Uriah is the only one to look pleased, though he’s always excited about something.

“Do you know where we’re—” I can’t suppress the sleepy yawn that tumbles out of my mouth despite my best efforts, shaking my head a little to clear the fogginess from my brain, “going?”

“Yes, I do.” He replies with a wide grin. When he doesn’t make a move to explain further I scowl.

“Are you going to tell me where?”

“And ruin the surprise? Not a chance.”

When we’d returned from lunch the day before we spent the rest of training brushing up on our weapons skills. Tris had returned to normal, pretending like nothing had been amiss that morning and she hadn’t beaten Molly to a pulp, and the rest of us followed suit. We each took turns helping Al improve his skills, but only when we were certain Eric wasn’t paying attention.

Just before we were dismissed Four had told us to meet at the train tracks the next morning. All he’d said was that we were going on a field trip and if we were late we would be factionless. Judging by Uriah’s response, the Dauntless born aren’t going to tell us where we’re going either.

“Are we going back to Navy Pier?” Christina asks Lynn, hoping to get it out of her. I’m not sure what part of Lynn’s personality has given Christina the impression that she’s the one who’s going to crack, yet I can’t help but admire her unfounded optimism.

“No.”

“The Hub?”

“No.”

“The Food Supply?”

“No.”

“…um…”

“The fence!” Marlene snaps, even as the rest of the Dauntless born shoot her dismayed looks. “We’re going to the fucking fence.”

“We’ll be going to Amity to get to the Fence.” Four says as he walks over to us, catching on to our conversation. He shoots me a meaningful look and I nod in recognition. I may have grown up in Amity, but I’m in Dauntless now and I need to act like it if I want to stay here. I can’t show any attachment to my former faction or else it will reflect very poorly upon me and my loyalty to my new faction.

Uriah shoots me a sympathetic look, following the same train of thought as I did. The others talk amongst themselves, speculating on what it is they’ll get to see at the Fence and expressing their excitement at getting to leave the compound for a few hours. He sidles up beside me and speaks low so as to avoid being overheard.

“The Dauntless born also struggle.” He confides and I’m surprised to hear this. “A lot of us have family members out there guarding the fence, we can’t seem too attached to our families or it calls into question the reasons why we chose to stay. My mom’s out there, Lynn’s sister is out there, Marlene’s uncle…we miss them, too.” I don’t need to ask to whom he is referring when he says too and I shoot him a grateful look.

Sometimes it’s nice to know you’re not alone in your feelings.

I spot headlights in the distance then and someone shouts that the train is coming. We all break into a sprint, throwing ourselves up onto the train with relative ease. I don’t even stumble this time, giving Uriah a high-five as he watches me with a hint of pride.

“What do you think is out there?” Tris asks us as she stares out at the moving landscape, framed by the slowly rising sun. Her expression is pensive as she watches the stretch of land beneath the lightening sky. “Beyond the fence.”

“Amity farms.” I tell her, not missing the pitying look she shoots me when she hears the wistful tone to my answer. It’s much harder than I anticipated to go back to Amity, having resigned myself to the fact that it would never happen long ago. If I choose to guard the fence, it will be where I spend most of my time. I imagine it could be nice to be back home, but it would be much worse to be there without truly being able to be there. I imagine I’d feel like a stranger in my own home and even though I know I couldn’t stay in Amity, I don’t ever want to feel like that.

“I know that, I meant past the farms. What are we guarding the city from? What’s out there?”

“Monsters?” Christina proposes and we all laugh at the absurdity of it.

“There weren’t guards at the fence until five years ago.” Will says, his voice taking on that tone it always does when he’s reciting something from a book. “Remember how the Dauntless would police the factionless sector instead?”

I don’t, but I do remember the day Dauntless first showed up at Amity on their way to the fence. One day they just walked by and then they kept on coming. I had watched them like a hawk, fascinated but never thinking that I could one day be them.

“I’m sure you saw them out there all the time when you walked by the factionless on your way to school.” Will says to Tris and we all shoot him startled looks.

“What, did you memorize a map of the city for fun?”

“Yes,” Will’s reply is innocent and he looks genuinely confused, “didn’t you?”

“Nope.” Uriah says matter-of-factly, patting Will on the back with a grin. “That was just you, my friend.”

We don’t say anything more as the train begins to lurch as it starts to slow down. My chest tightens as I take a peek outside as we make our approach. The dilapidated black and grey buildings of the city have given way to the bright yellow and green fields near Amity. I’m not yet able to see the exact fields and orchards that were my home, but the longing in my heart is all the same.

The train comes to a stop beneath a white awning and we all jump out into the field. The grass comes all the way up to my hips and I run my fingers over the tops as tickles my fingers, suddenly struck by the overwhelming urge to do something stupid like cry. I return my hand back to my side and I see Four give me an imperceptible nod of approval at my withdrawal.

The Fence is about a mile north of where we stand, a sight just as familiar to me as the orchards of Amity. The base is a concrete mass of wall tinted a reddish brown color topped by an electrified fence as high as the clouds. It goes on for what seems like forever in either direction, encasing the entirety of Chicago in its protection. I can see a few Dauntless guards milling around beside a staircase in the distance, a certain listlessness to their movements. I avoid turning my head to the left because I know that less than a mile from where we stand is Amity.

Four leads us in the direction of the Fence, trudging through the waist-high grass like it’s not even there. We come to a clearing just before the base of the fence where the grass has been cleared away. The guards all stand at attention when they see Four, some nodding respectfully as others avert their gazes. I don’t know what to make of that and I make a mental note to ask Uriah about it later.

“This way.” Four says, directing us towards a discolored section of the base. There is a small keypad beside it and I know that this is where the Dauntless guards type in the code to open the gate. The gate is as wide as a house and tall enough to allow even the largest Amity trucks to pass through without issue. A dirt road leading back to the city rests before the discolored section, the same road I took each day to school. “If you don’t rank in the top five, you will most likely end up here. There is potential for advancement, but it is rare. You might be able to patrol beyond the Amity farms, but—”

“What purpose do the patrols serve?” Will interrupts like he just can’t help himself from asking. I’m certain that Four will scold him for showing his Erudite, but he only shrugs.

“I guess you’ll find out if you end up here. Most people who start out guarding the fence young continue to guard the fence until retirement. If it’s any consolation, many insist that it isn’t as bad as it seems.”

“It’s worse.” Uriah murmurs. I wait for him to give me a sign that he’s joking, but I soon realize he’s not.

“What was your rank?” Peter asks Four. I expect for him to ignore Peter or reply with some scathing remark about being nosy. Instead, he seems determined to surprise me today.

“First.”

“And you _chose_ to train _us_?” Peter looks stunned and I wonder how low ranking the Candor initiate trainers must have been. “Didn’t you want a government job?”

“No.” Four’s voice is flat when he responds, but the warning for Peter to stop with his question is loud and clear.

This conversation reminds me that one day, presuming I pass initiation, I will have to choose a job. I haven’t the faintest idea what job I would like as I’d never given it much thought. Since I spent most of my childhood believing I would stay in Amity my career prospects never expanded much beyond ending up in the fields. If I don’t make the top five I’m sure the transition from a childhood spent in Amity to an adulthood guarding the fence would be easier for me than most, even if I did feel like a stranger in my own home.

The keypad makes a high trilling noise as it lights up a bright yellow color and begins to blink. One of the guards who nodded at Four jogs over to type in a code. At the top of the keypad there is a video screen and it shows there is an Amity truck waiting to be let in on the other side. The guard types in his own code and the gate splits open, smoothly disappearing into the rest of the fence. The truck pulls through and I can determine by its size that it must hold some sort of produce on its way to the Food Supply.

The driver is an older man named Ed who worked with my father when I was little. He stops once he’s cleared the gap and gets out, paying us no mind. I’m relieved he doesn’t recognize me, unsure of how I would deal with that. Just being so close to Amity is difficult enough without having to interact with anyone I know.

The back of the truck is open and I can see now that there are crates stacked up to the ceilings bursting with freshly harvested potatoes. A few Amity sit spread out among the crates, but I do not recognize any of them so they must be transfer initiates. Amity initiation is primarily comprised of learning the methods employed by farmers and harvesters before initiates take to the fields to apply their knowledge. They’re also given the opportunity to explore other aspects of life in Amity, but since the whole faction places an emphasis on food supply it’s what is most heavily focused upon. After a full season initiates are invited to declare their chosen occupation to the whole faction during the harvest celebration. I imagine Dauntless does some version of the harvest celebration at the end of initiation, just with a lot more alcohol and a lot less produce.

"Beatrice?" One of them says and Tris jerks her head around, surprised. 

The initiate stands up from between the crates, hopping down from the truck. He hesitates before stepping forward and hugging her. She stiffens and I silently curse this transfer Amity for not yet knowing better. The Amity learn the customary greetings of other factions so that we do not offend anyone that we may come across. Clearly, the transfers have not yet learned this lesson.

He finally releases her after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, his smile fading once he gets a good look at her. I already know what he’s going to say before he says it and I try to think of a way to step in, but I come up empty. I turn my head back to Ed, hoping my gaze will burn into the back of his neck quick enough for him to collect his initiate.

“Beatrice, what happened to your face?”

“Jesus, is this kid from Candor?” Uriah mutters, looking exasperated. I want to laugh, but I’m also wondering the same thing.

“Nothing, just training.” He shoots her a look flooded with disapproval and I want to smack him, but I hold myself back. Tris is not some weakling and she can handle things perfectly fine on her own. If nothing else, her fight with Molly yesterday proved that beyond any doubt.

“ _Beatrice_?” Molly sneers, as if she didn’t just get her ass kicked by this ‘Beatrice’ just the day before. “Is that your real name?”

Tris shoots her a look that conveys her bewilderment that Molly really is dumber than she looks. “What’d you think Tris was short for?”

“Weakling, maybe?” She touches her chin, pretending to ponder this thought deeply. If I didn’t know there was nothing but air between her ears, I’d believe it. “Oh, wait, that doesn’t start with Tris. My bad.”

“Big words coming from someone who got knocked unconscious by that weakling yesterday.” Christina snarks and I smirk, watching as Molly flushes a deep red. The Amity boy looks horrified by the implication, but I'm still glad she said it. 

"You knocked someone _unconscious_?" He repeats, incredulous. Before Tris can reply, Four steps away from his conversation with the Dauntless guard and Ed. 

"Initiates, let's go." Tris gives the boy an apologetic look I’m not convinced she means before slipping away, looking relieved. 

I give her a sympathetic look as we walk through the gap, heading west. We travel along the perimeter of the fence, beside the farmland surrounding Johanna's field office. I can see her standing a short distance away, chatting with some of the field hands as they look down at a clipboard I presume to be produce orders. 

She looks up, just for a split second, but I can tell she sees me. To her credit, she looks back down as if nothing had happened but I can tell she's fighting the urge to look back up. I'm unsure if she's disappointed in me for leaving or just trying to not get me into trouble, but neither thought soothes the pang in my chest. 

It’s a strange thing to be back in Amity, even if it is just out on the farmland. I will always love this place and no matter where I end up nothing will change that. I was born here, I was raised here, and for the longest time I was certain I would die here. There will always be comfort in the tops of the trees and the smell of the harvest, but it is not my home anymore.

I’m relieved that I don’t see my mother anywhere, even though she is usually out here during the harvest season. I wonder if Johanna knew we were coming today and moved her somewhere else, for both of our sakes. I hope she’s doing well and I hope she comes to Visiting Day tomorrow, but I’m so relieved I don’t see her now.

We walk to the end of the Amity farmlands as Four points out the various landmarks of Amity beyond the Fence. It isn't often that a Dauntless soldier ventures out into this side of the fence, but it's good to know the land. I already know all this, of course, but I pay close attention anyway. 

When we return to the gate once more, Johanna and the field hands are gone. There isn’t a single Amity in sight and I know that they must be having lunch in the Dome. Four approaches the keypad and types in a code he must have gotten from Ed because a moment later the gate slides open to admit us back inside the fence. We climb a staircase up the base until we reach a wide walkway just below the electrified portion of the fence. There are more guards up here who nod politely at each of us but say nothing as they brush by.

We walk to the east this time until we reach the barracks where the patrols spend their time off duty on the fence. Four explains that inside there is a dormitory, a communications room, a strategy room, and an infirmary staffed by doctors who rotate between here and the infirmary inside Dauntless. The fence guards are out here in shifts, two weeks out here and two weeks back in Dauntless where they patrol the compound four days a week. We leave soon after, heading back towards the gate. I don’t miss the longing look Uriah shoots at the barracks, knowing his mother is likely inside.

Four calls over one of the guards to speak to us once we return. He introduces himself as Spike and claims that he chose to go to the Fence after initiation. We don’t believe him, but none of us will tell him that. He answers all of our questions, even the many Will asks him about patrols. He is patient and eager to explain the many facets of life at the fence. By the time he’s finished I’m less doubtful that he actually chose to come out here.

When we climb down the stairs to the inside of the fence, we run into Shauna. She greets those of us from ziplining with a bright smile, explaining that she was hoping she’d see us before we left. She and Lynn keep their distance, knowing it’s for the best even as Lynn tries and fails to hide her excitement at seeing her sister. Shauna gives us a quick rundown on her daily life at the fence and responsibilities as a supplies coordinator. She admits that the fence wasn’t her first choice, but it isn’t as bad as we think.

We get back on the train soon after, relieved to be heading back to Dauntless. Though I think the fence isn’t the worst place to end up, I definitely don’t want to go back there anytime soon.


	12. Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy reading and (hopefully) reviewing!

I’ve never liked Visiting Day.

As a child, I anticipated the day like one anticipates a dental procedure—which is, to say, with a great deal of trepidation. It was the dreaded day each year upon which I had to endure the presence of my father’s parents in Amity. They had raised him to be the perfect Erudite, believing his intellect would be enough to ensure he became their next great leader. Imagine their surprise when he sliced his hand open over a bowl of soil instead of water.

Once the shock had passed it had given way to frequently vocalized disappointment. They didn’t understand why he wanted to “pick apples” and “hug trees” for the rest of his life. They didn’t understand why he wanted to be so close to “that awful fence” when he could be tucked away in the safety of the city. They didn’t understand why he could possibly want to be anything other than Erudite.

Despite all of their frustration and misunderstanding, they came to visit us every year until he died. They came once more even after, shortly after my mother returned from her stint at the hospital in Erudite. They wanted to take me back with them to Erudite, had even taken the liberty of having the papers drawn up and everything. Blessedly, my mother was of a sound enough mind to tell them in no uncertain times would I be returning with them to Erudite. It’s the only time I can ever remember my mother being anything other than kind.

I haven’t seen them since.

The mood is somber in the dormitory when I wake. We dress in silence, so consumed by our own thoughts and anxieties we can’t help but ignore one another. Even Peter is quiet, a phenomenon I thought to be impossible. Today is not kind to any of us.

In the morning we face Visiting Day. If our families do not show up, we will have to hide our disappointment and act as if we are content with that. Many families will not show up for even though we are encouraged to listen to the test, there is no greater sin in some families than leaving your faction. If our families do decide to show up, we cannot allow ourselves to display any sort of attachment. It calls into question our loyalty to our new faction and there is nothing taken more seriously than faction loyalty.

Neither scenario is better than the other.

In the evening our rankings will be revealed. We are ranked against the Dauntless born for cuts, though we will only be shown our ranking amongst the transfers. The four lowest ranked initiates will be made factionless. They will leave us in the morning, never able to rejoin society.

“Good morning.” Four is calm when he enters the dormitory, but I can the tense set to his shoulders. “Today will be a difficult day for all of you, regardless of whether your families show up or not. In Dauntless we rise above difficult situations and today is no different. Here we take the phrase ‘faction before blood’ seriously. If your families do show up, I would advise you to not seem too attached. This will make it easiest for you, and for them. They’re ready for you in the Pit when you’re ready.”

Nobody moves when he leaves, not wanting to be the first to go seek out their families. After a few moments’ hesitation we all seem to give in at once and head for the Pit. Clusters of families are scattered all across the cavernous space, most of them Dauntless but most of the other factions have a good representation. I spot Uriah standing with Zeke and a woman I presume to be their mother, a proud smile stretched across her face as Uriah tells her something. Lynn stands with Shauna, a teenage boy with bright blue hair just a few years younger than us, and a grinning man with a snake tattooed across his neck.

Christina is the first to find her family, a cluster of three dressed in black and white looking shell-shocked. Will follows soon after as he rushes towards a woman no more than a few years older than us in blue. Tris sees a woman in a grey dress leaning against the railing by the Chasm and heads her way. I am pleased for my friends that their families have come, but I’m struck with a nearly overwhelming sadness for myself.

I’m about to turn around to go hide in the dorms until all of the families leave when I see her. She stands in a gauzy yellow dress that covers her ankles, looking up at the rocky walls like they’re the most magnificent thing she’s ever seen. I try to remain calm as I walk her way, not wanting to appear too eager even as my heart feels like it might burst from my chest if it means getting to her quicker. She turns when she senses me approaching and her smile grows so wide I worry her face may split right in half.

I’m the one who grabs her, throwing my arms around her as I breathe in her familiar smell. A sense calm descends on me for she smells of earth, rain, and apples but more than anything she smells like home. Not a word passes between us as she holds me, stroking my hair as I blink back a wave of tears. When I finally release her, she looks at me as if I am all of her hopes and dreams come to life.

“Oh, Indigo, look at you.” She gasps, tracing her eyes over the inky constellation running across my collarbone. “You look so magnificently Dauntless.”

“I have a tree on the back of my shoulder.” I tell her as she traces a finger over a section with a star. If possible, her smile widens even more.

“It fits you. How are you?”

“I’m good.” I tell her and I really mean it. I might be in terrible danger if anyone discovers I am Divergent, I might get cut tonight, and I might be entirely too on the radar of a certain leader but I’ve never felt more alive my entire life than I have in these past few weeks. “How is everything in Amity?”

“Amity is just lovely.” She sighs dreamily and I feel something shift in me at her tone. “I have something wonderful to tell you.”

“Well, then tell me.” I instruct her, trying not to betray the apprehension I feel in my voice. “Wonderful things were meant to be shared.”

“Do you remember Jax?”

“The doctor? With the blonde hair and the glasses?”

“Yes, the very same. Shortly after you left I burnt my arm in the ovens baking bread and I ended up in the infirmary. He took me care of me and during that time we got to know one another. We have so much in common and he remembers you, from that time you fell out of that tree and broke your arm. We started a relationship and I know it’s so sudden, but yesterday evening he asked me to marry him.”

I don’t know what to say to this. I do remember Jax, he was often my doctor each time I ended up in the infirmary, but we’d only spoken a few times. He had appeared to be an exemplary Amity, nothing but kind and compassionate to all he came across. I could see why she had fallen for him. He looked so much like my father with his blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, but he was missing the same air of apprehension I’d always felt exuding from my father.

Suddenly, I wished that there was no such thing as faction before blood. I wished that I could travel to Amity and meet this man as my mother’s partner, not just as the doctor who gave me a pink cast because pink was my favorite color and he knew how to mix the dyes. I wished that I could see the two of them together, question his attentions as if I had the right to decide if he was good enough for her, and inevitably give my blessing. But, I know I cannot do any of these things. Instead, I must trust my mother to tell me the truth and to exercise good judgment in my absence.

“Well, what did you say?” I ask her after a moment to pull myself together, trying my best to look positively giddy at the news. I’m not sure how convincing I am, but I know she appreciates the effort.

“I told him I needed to wait until I spoke with my daughter.” My smile is genuine this time, touched. The fact that she is not rushing into this with reckless abandon comforts me.

“He was ok with that?”

“He was more than ok, he apologized for not being the one to suggest it himself. He is a very good man, Indigo. There will never, ever be anyone like your father but I think he’s the closest I can get.”

“Then I hope you go back this afternoon and tell him yes.” I don’t put up a fight when she pulls me into a hug once more, my eyes gone misty as I truly mean the words I say. She releases me after a few moments with a light laugh, shaking her head as her eyes brighten.

“Enough about me.” She grins, nodding at someone against the railing. I turn to look and I’m unsurprised to see that Eric is watching us. I can’t read the look in his eyes from this distance, but there’s some part of me that knows it’s not malicious or disapproving. “Tell me about him.”

“He’s one of the leaders here.” I explain as I try to ignore the way I can feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of my head. “He’s in charge of initiate training.”

“He’s handsome.” I must look as shocked as I feel because she giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “All the piercings in the world couldn’t disguise that.”

“Mom!” I whine, mortified as I see him heading our way. I can only pray to whatever deity there may be that he didn’t hear her.

Before I can open my mouth to introduce him, my mother extends her hand with a warm smile. I can tell by the surprise on his face that her handshake is unexpectedly firm and he’s impressed. “Hi there! I’m Autumn Jagger, Indigo’s mother.”

“Eric,” he smiles tightly, a nervous set to his shoulders, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well! I understand that you’re the leader overseeing initiate training.”

“Yes, I am. Indie is doing very well, I think she has a bright future in Dauntless.” I’m so taken aback by the fact that Eric is actually paying me a compliment I miss the knowing look my mother shoots him.

“I’m pleased to hear that, especially coming from someone who is a leader at such a young age.”

“Age is just a number in Dauntless.” He is still as polite as can be, but there is a sharp edge to his voice that does not go unnoticed.

“Maybe so, but it is still an impressive feat and you should be very proud.” If Eric is surprised by her praise he hides it well. “Well, we won’t keep you. I’m sure you have a lot to do.”

“I do, but it was nice meeting you.”

“You as well.” Eric nods once more, walking off but not before shooting me a long look. I pretend I don’t notice, turning back to my mother with a deceitfully light smile. “So, how long have you two been—”

“We’re not.”

“Do you want to be?” I pause, considering the possibility, but she doesn’t need a response. My hesitation is all the answer she needs to continue. “I can tell that he wants to be.”

“I’m still just an initiate.” I remind her, not sure why I’m even allowing us to entertain this thought. One kiss does not a lasting relationship make. “It’s against the rules.”

“For now, but once you pass initiation…” She trails off, hoping I’ll take the bait. When I don’t she sighs, her expression turned contrite. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

“You’re my mother, it’s your job to pry.” I wink, letting her know there’s no hard feelings. “I just don’t have much to say.”

“Then we shall change the subject.” She grins, moving right along. “Have you made any friends?”

“Yes, a few.” I point out some of my friends standing with their families around the Pit. I see Tris and her mother speaking with Four over by the Chasm. I point out Uriah and his family, Lynn and Marlene not too far away. I notice Christina and Will are chatting with one another's families. I don't see Al anywhere, but it's possible he's already gone in to the dining hall for lunch with his family. 

“Is everyone doing well in initiation?” I hesitate for a moment, but I decide to be honest. Tris struggles with the fights most of the time, but she’s so determined that I’m sure she’ll make it to the next round. Christina is somewhere in the middle while Will is surely in the top three. I don’t know the rankings of the Dauntless born, but I can’t imagine any of them are doing poorly. Al, on the other hand…

“I’m worried he made a mistake, choosing Dauntless.” I tell her, my voice just barely above a whisper as I strive to not be overheard. “He would have done so well in Amity, or even Abnegation, but not here. He doesn’t belong here.”

“Then your friend is going to have to live with the consequences of making the wrong choice.” She responds in an equally quiet voice, a sympathetic expression on her face. “If he is struggling this much in just the first stage, then this may not have been the faction he received on the test. There is a great amount of risk choosing a faction for which you did not have an aptitude. I'm sure he was well aware of that before he made his choice.”

“I just feel so bad for him.” I confess and she smiles, though it is tinged with sadness.

“That’s the Amity in you, I’m afraid. I’m not sure it will ever really go away.”

“I wouldn’t want it to.” I admit. If she is surprised she hides it well, taking my hand with a smile and demanding I lead her to this famous chocolate cake.

* * *

"No _pets_?" Christina repeats, stunned. "Why not?"

"They're illogical." Will replies. I hold back a smile, as I must each time Will's Erudite shows. "Why put in the time and money to keep an animal that soils your furniture, stinks up your house, and dies in the end?"

"Because…because…" Christina struggles with a response as Al and Tris share an amused look.

"Because they bring happiness." I volunteer. "We had horses and dogs to help with the farming in Amity, but they also served as family pets. I'm sure if you did a study, you'd find that Amity homes with pets were happier than those without."

"See!" Christina shouts, pointing a finger in my direction. "The Amity get it!"

"That's not exactly a selling point." Will grumbles and I kick him under the table. 

"I had a bulldog named Chunker. One time, we left a whole roast chicken on the table and…"

Despite the lightness of the conversation, there’s a sense of trepidation fallen over us. Once we finish our dinner we’ll report back to our dormitory to learn of our rankings. The bottom four initiates are out, this much I know, but as to where I stand I haven’t the faintest idea. I presume that I’m somewhere in the middle since I’ve won most of my fights, but I don’t know for certain. I don’t know anything for certain these days.

In two days’ time we’ll progress to stage two. I have no idea what to expect; not even Uriah has told me. I'm not sure if he genuinely doesn't know or if the Dauntless born are forbidden from telling the transfers, but either way I am left in the dark. Four said on day one that the second stage is emotional training, but that could mean anything. 

The Amity believe that emotions are a perfectly natural part of being human. Sometimes they can cause us to be unkind, so it is wise to have a handle on them. I imagine the Dauntless also believe in controlling emotions, though I doubt it is for the sake of kindness.

Once we’ve all taken our last bites of food we clear our dishes and head for the dormitory. All the anxiety I've tried to ignore all day flares up in full force and I begin to panic. What if winning most but not all of my fights isn't good enough? What if I'm in the bottom four? What if I make it through this stage, only to be cut in the next? 

When we enter Four stands with the blackboard at his feet, concealed from our view. He looks bored, as if he isn't about to condemn some of us to a factionless life. I wonder where Eric is, but I banish that thought from my mind as soon as it comes. It doesn't matter where Eric is; if I get cut, he won't help me. 

"After the first round of fights, we ranked you on the skills you showed. The points you earned are based both on the skill you demonstrated and the skills of the people you fought. You earned points for improvement, and for beating someone of a higher skill level. Dauntless does not reward preying on the weak for that is cowardice." His eyes linger on Peter and he flushes, looking uncomfortable. Even if he hadn't looked to him, we would all know exactly to whom he was referring. "Those with a high rank lost points for losing to a low-ranked opponent."

Molly scowls at this, the action highlighting the deep purple hue of her nose under the medical tape. Not even the Amity parts of me can feel sympathy for her, not after all of the horrible things she's done to Tris. She still hasn't told us exactly what set her off that day, but I know Tris. It wasn't something small to trigger that sort of reaction. 

"This next stage carries more weight than the first, as it is so closely tied to overcoming cowardice. That said, it is difficult to rank highly at the end of initation if you rank low in stage one. The bottom four initiates among the transfers and the Dauntless born out. If you are in the bottom four you will have a star beside your name. You will leave us in the morning to go live among the factionless. That said, here are your ranks."

Four hangs the board on a hook on the wall and steps out of the way. 

  1. Edward
  2. Peter
  3. Will
  4. Indie



Fourth? I wasn't expecting to be fourth. I thought for sure I would have gotten sixth or lower. I continue down the list, searching for my friends.

  1. Christina
  2. Molly
  3. Tris
  4. Drew
  5. Al*
  6. Myra*



An uneasy silence falls over the room. Everyone is still as statues, unmoving as we frown at the board. Four has dropped the aloof act and looks uneasy by our strangely subdued reaction. We all wait with bated breath for someone to break the silence.

That someone is Molly, of course. 

"What?" She shrieks, pointing at Christina. "I beat her! I beat her in _minutes_ and she's _above_ me?'

"Yeah?" Christina looks smug. From what she's told me of her interactions with Molly in Candor, I'm sure this moment is a sweet victory. "So?"

"If you wanted a higher rank, then you shouldn't have lost to so many low-ranking opponents." Four snaps, storming from the room as if we've all personally offended him. Tris looks wounded, well aware that she is the low-ranking opponent to whom he referred. Judging from the way Molly snaps her head around to look at Tris, she knows it too. 

"You," she scowls, her beady little eyes honing in on Tris like moths to a flame. "You're going to pay for this!" I take a step closer to Tris, expecting Molly to lunge at her. Instead, she turns on her heel and leaves the dormitory without another word. 

Unease has settled back into the room with her departure. Peter is quiet, an unexpected feat that does little to soothe my nerves. He just walks over to his bunk and sits down, preparing for bed. Given his propensity to complain when things do not go his way, his aloofness is a shock. I feel it is also a warning of terrible things to come. 


	13. Crime and No Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a little darker, for obvious reasons. I really wanted to capture the state of shock Indie’s in and I hope that comes through. It’s also a lot shorter than the others; I felt like stretching it out for the sake of length wasn’t worth it and would only compromise the plot. Nonetheless, my apologies and I hope to get the next chapter out quickly to compensate. Thank you for reading and supporting this story, I truly can’t express how much I appreciate it.

I am on the roof. 

I stand at the ledge from which I jumped off my first day in Dauntless. A figure stands at the other side, gazing down at the pavement below. She is unmoving, as if frozen in time. I want to walk to her, to see what she sees, but my legs refuse to cooperate. 

She lifts her head then, as if she senses my wish. She turns around and walks my way, her head turned down. A curtain of auburn hair the same shade as my own obscures her face from view. She stops just before me, gaze still glued to the ground. 

I open my mouth to speak, but none of the words I want to say come out. We stand together in the silence, unmoving. Suddenly my body crumples to the ground, pushed down by an unseen force. I kneel before her, struggling against invisible bounds. When she lifts her head, a strangled gasp tears from my throat.

It is me, but not. Her eyes are a black void replete with any emotion. Her skin is translucent, all the veins beneath her skin visible to the naked eye. The word 'Divergent' is crudely carved across her forehead, dried blood framing each letter. 

I hear a wail, then. I expect it to be from my mouth.

It is not. 

My eyes shoot open, but the room is dark. There is a commotion in the room, just barely heard above the sound of wailing. Someone shouts to turn on the lights and I stumble that way, dragging my hand across the rough cinderblock wall until I find the switch. The sight that greets me almost makes me wish that I had kept them off. 

Edward is on the floor beside his bed, clawing at his face. A pool of blood surrounds his blonde hair like a morbid halo and the handle of a silver knife handle juts out between his fingers. It is a butter knife from the dining hall and it is stuck in Edward's eye. 

Myra stands at Edward's feet, screaming bloody murder as tears roll down her face. Will runs from the room, shouting for help as Tris calmly moves to Edward’s side. She crouches down beside him and pleads with him to stay still. Molly vomits across the room and Edward begs for someone to pull the knife from his eye. 

"No." She tells him. Her tranquility calms me like it’s contagious. "The doctor needs to take it out. Do you hear me? You have to let the doctor take it out. Deep breaths."

"It hurts," he cries and it pushes me forward. I kneel on his other side across from Tris, putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving around too much. 

"I know it does." I tell him, trying to make my voice as soothing as possible. I let the Amity side of myself take control, just this once. "But everything's going to be all right."

The three of us know this isn't true. Edward will likely lose his eye. That is sure to impact his ranking. Even so, it seems to help him for the time being so Tris and I repeat it to him like a mantra. Nothing is going to be all right. Nothing can be all right in a place where people stab each other in the eye with butter knives in the dead of night. But, for now, we need to believe it anyway. 

When the nurse comes, she has all of us step back. Our hands and knees are stained crimson with blood—Edward's blood. The blood from Edward's eye that was stabbed by a butter knife because he ranked first. When I search the room, I notice two people are missing. Drew, a follower of a petulant bully unlikely to be content with second place. And Peter. 

* * *

The nurse and a couple Dauntless patrol guards carry Edward away to the infirmary. Tris carries each of us a change of clothes into the bathroom as I follow behind her like a lost puppy. Christina accompanies us, standing guard at the door. We don't say a word to one another. Words fail me. 

I'm still before the sink, Tris scrubbing at her hands beside me. I stare down at my hands like they are not a part of me. I could almost fool myself into believing I had dipped them into dye they’re so red, but I know better. 

Tris grabs my hands and shoves them under the water, scrubbing at them for me when I make no motion to do so myself. I watch her closely, not wanting to see the white porcelain splashed with red. She is reverting into Abnegation mode, putting others before herself to cope with this. I envy her ability to keep going. 

She hands me a change of clothes. When I make no move to put them on, she sighs and tugs at my shirt. I let her. I feel like this is an out of body experience. I feel like someone looking in on a scene, not a part of it. 

She grabs as many paper towels as she can hold once she's dressed. I know she'll clean up the mess and I want to help her, but I can't make myself move. 

"We all know who did that, right?" Christina says, looking pensive. 

"Yeah."  

"Should we tell someone?"

"You think they'll actually do anything about it?" Tris sighs. Her words are frustrated, but they are overwhelmed by the exhaustion we all feel. "After they hung you over the chasm? Made us beat each other until we were unconscious? Threw knives at my head?"

None of us need to ask who she means by 'they.'

A small part of me wants to believe that Eric would do _something_. Even he must have his limits. I would think stabbing your competition with a butter knife in the dead of night would be a hard limit. There is no glory in taking out your competition when they are at their most vulnerable like a coward.

But an even larger part of me suspects that he will let this slide.

* * *

We have the day off. I wish we didn't. 

Christina and Al are napping in the dormitory. Due to his injuries, Edward has been forced to leave. Myra goes with him. Even if she wasn't in the bottom four, I know she would have gone anyway. So, by default, Al gets to stay by the skin of his teeth.

I should be happy for my friend. He won't be factionless. He gets to stay in Dauntless. He has the opportunity to improve his rank and maybe become a full member. But I know this is unlikely to happen. Dragging it out seems almost cruel. 

Will and Tris are in the Pit. They invited me to go with them, but I declined. I don't want to be around anyone right now. Instead, I wander the compound. I weave down a dark hallway illuminated by blue lights. I have no idea where I am and if I'll ever find my way back to the dorms, but I don't care. 

I'm in third now. It feels dirty to have a higher rank because of this. I hope Peter feels disgusted with himself, but I doubt it. Sometimes I think he lacks the capacity to feel anything other than malice.

He's first now and I'm sure he's bragging about it all over the compound to anyone who will listen. I wonder if Molly knew what was going to happen. I doubt it, from the way that she vomited last night. But it's possible. 

I come to a dead end. I turn back around to face the seemingly endless hallway of doors. I wonder what's behind each one. Living quarters, I imagine. If I pass initiation and become a member, I will live in one of them. I hope they're safer than a dormitory, but something tells me nowhere in this compound is safe. 

"Indie?" A familiar voice says, coming from an open doorway. It's Eric. He looks puzzled, but not displeased by my presence. "What are you doing here?"

"Exploring." I say. I don't make a move to leave and neither does he. 

"Are you alright?" I nod. I'm lying. He knows it too. "Do you want to come inside?" Not really, but I have nothing better to do so I nod. 

His apartment is nothing like I expected. I imagined it would look like a dungeon in those fairytales I read as a child from the ancient times. Or a prison cell. Instead, it's bright. 

There is a long stretch of windows against the furthest wall, framed by polished black brick. A small kitchen with dark appliances, black marble counters, and ash grey walls stands to my left. There’s a modest sitting space with a large, comfy couch made of black leather and a black wooden bookshelf stuffed with books straight ahead. A black wooden staircase, with no railing of course, leads upstairs to what I assume is his bedroom. I can see a dark wooden dresser and the end of a bed covered by a fluffy black blanket. 

"I wanted to speak with you." He tells me, looking unbothered by my inspection of his living space. "I was going to look for you just now, actually."

"Why?"

"I wanted to congratulate you, on your rank." He says, smiling, and I feel sick to my stomach at the reminder. "Third place is a fantastic spot to be. I'm impressed by the improvements you've shown in such a short time. We'll see if you do as well in stage two." 

"If you're trying to intimidate me, it's working." I snap. He looks bewildered, but I'm sure it's an act. "Now will you please just leave me alone?"

"I'm…sorry?" He apologizes, sounding genuinely confused. "I'm not trying to intimidate you, I swear."

"Bullshit!" I shout, losing control of my mouth. "You've been trying to intimidate me since day one!"

"No, I've been trying to train you since day one. In case you've forgotten, it's my job to produce the best Dauntless soldiers possible and sometimes that means whipping people into shape." 

"Oh yeah? The best soldiers? That's what you want? I didn't know people who stabbed their competition with a butter knife while they're asleep make the best soldiers."

"We don't even know for sure that it was an initiate." He sighs. He sounds exhausted, as if all of this is weighing heavy on him, but I don't believe it for a second. 

"Who the hell else would it be? And it wasn't just any initiate, we all know exactly who it was!"

"Do you have proof of this?"

"No, but—"

"Because you and I both know that I can't go around arresting people just because you _think_ they did something."

"This is your fault, you know." His eyes widen and he barks out a laugh in disbelief. 

"Really? Please, do tell me how this is _my_ fault."

"You did this! You created this environment where cruelty is more acceptable than cowardice! You created the environment that made Peter and Drew think it's perfectly acceptable to wipe out your competition _with a butter knife_ in the dead of night!"

"You have no proof that is what happened!"

"I know that, but I also _know_ it was them!"

"Well, unfortunately, that's not good enough!" He sighs, clearly trying to calm himself down. "I’ve already told you that I can't do anything without proof."

"You wouldn't do anything anyway." I snap. His face crumples like I’ve just hit him but I don’t care. I turn on my heel and storm out of the apartment in a tidal wave of fury. He lets me go without a word, his only goodbye a heavy sigh of defeat as I slam the door shut behind me.


	14. Waves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If diamond’s are a girl’s best friend then reviews are definitely a writer’s best friend.

"So, who's ranked first?" Lynn asks from across the hall, picking at her nails. She sports that same air of aloofness as Eric when he's trying to seem bored. The familiar sight causes a strange ache in my chest I cannot interpret and I look away. 

"Me." Peter says after a moment's hesitation, looking unsure. It's rare that we get to see Peter off balance and I relish in it, as cruel as that may sound. 

"I bet I could take you." Lynn grins, but I know that she's completely serious. I believe it, too. "I'm second, but I bet any of us could take you."

"I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.” Peter smirks, but it's empty. He wouldn’t last a second against Lynn and we all know it. "Who’s first?"

"Me." Uriah declares, looking smug. "And she could definitely take you."

From what I can tell so far, stage two involves lots of sitting. We met up in the training room per usual but Four brought us to this dark hallway and told us to wait. The Dauntless born initiates showed up soon after and then he started calling us back into the room one at a time. 

So far, no one who’s gone inside the room has come back out. I imagine there’s another door out of the room and they want to keep up this air of mystery surrounding stage two. Or they’re bringing us back there to kill us off one by one. You never really know with the Dauntless.

I was still practically vibrating with fury when I stormed out of Eric’s apartment, but it has long since reduced to an irked simmer. I don’t regret a word of what I said, but I delivered my very valid points in anger and a reckless sort of brutal honesty. I still believe that he wouldn’t have done a thing about Peter and Drew even if there was proof. He does contribute to an environment that has turned Dauntless more cruel than brave. He has taken pleasure in intimidating us not to whip us into shape but for his own amusement.

Yet, I can’t say with any ounce of certainty that he would let the incident with Edward slide because I don’t have proof. Eric is a powerful leader in this faction, but he is not the only one. I’m sure Dauntless strayed from its intended path long before he showed up and became a leader. It isn’t fair to place all of that blame on him as drastic changes such as this surely didn’t happen overnight. I believe him when he says he wasn’t trying to intimidate me, even though he has done so in the past. I do see that maybe it was possible he really was just trying to encourage me to keep up my hard work during the next stage of training.

Eric confuses me and the fact that I put any thought at all into figuring him out just confuses me further. I consider the cruelties he has committed and I am reminded of how desperately I needed to stay away from him. Then I think of the reasons for why he does the things he does and I worry I am too hasty to judge him. It’s a vicious cycle of my Amity side warring with my Dauntless side.

A thought unbidden pops into my head. Eric has made it clear, surely despite his best efforts, that he is very much interested. If I were to enter into any sort of relationship with him, could I really trust him? Not just with my heart, but with the burden of who and what I really am? Would he be able to keep me out of harm’s way, would he even be willing? If it really came down to it, can I trust that Eric would sacrifice his position to keep me safe? I don’t know.

The fact that I’m even considering this makes me hate myself a little bit more.

“Don’t you think this is a little unfair?” Will asks suddenly, looking straight at Uriah when he speaks. His question pulls me from my self-loathing thoughts and I listen intently. “You’ve all had your whole lives to prepare for this when we’ve had just a few weeks.”

“Not at all.” Uriah’s reply is immediate. “The first stage is about skill, which is why we’re trained separately. This stage…you can’t prepare for it in any way. It doesn’t matter whether you were born here or you transferred, we’re all starting off in the same boat.”

Nobody disagrees. I think this is mostly because we don’t know what we’re facing rather than complete agreement with Uriah.

The hallway descends into silence as we continue to wait. Twenty minutes pass since Molly was brought in and Four emerges, summoning Peter. It feels as though this hallway is where time comes to die and we are going to be here for all of time and eternity. I will grow old in this hallway. I will die in this hallway. My ghost will haunt this hallway, if any of the old Amity legends have any truth to them.

“Indie, you’re up.” I’m so relieved when Four calls me that I don’t even care that it startled me so much I hit my head against the wall. Tris shoots me an encouraging look as I pass her by and I try to return it with the best smile I can manage.

As soon as I enter the room I want to run back out into the hallway of never-ending wait. The setup is nearly identical to the aptitude test and I can feel my heart rate begin to quicken as I realize that this is when my divergence will come out. A reclining metal chair sits beside a familiar machine with wires resting atop in a messy clump. A computer sits on a desk beside the chair and if I concentrate hard enough I can almost see Emily sitting there.

“Sit.” Four commands, but his voice is kind. I step forward slowly, eyeing the chair with a great deal of trepidation.

“We’re doing another aptitude test?”

“Not exactly. They’re called simulations. Ever heard the phrase ‘face your fears?’ You’re going to do precisely that. The simulations will teach you how to control your emotions during a frightening situation when your courage might otherwise run away from you.”

Simulations aren’t real. I have nothing to be afraid of. Yet I’m completely terrified because the last time I faced a simulation I was told I’m Divergent. I can only hope that this simulation won’t tell Four the same thing.

I flinch when he brushes my hair to the side. He mumbles an apology before pulling out a syringe with a cloudy orange liquid on one end and a long needle on the other. I swallow hard in the hopes that it will swallow my apprehension right down with it.

“This is a more advanced version of the simulation.” He explains, noticing that my attention is firmly on the needle in his hand. “The serum is different than the one used in the aptitude test and so it requires an injection. This will only pinch for a second.”

It pinches, just as he said and I can’t contain my wince. He neglected to warn me of the deep ache that fills my throat and I cough to shake off the discomfort. I take a deep breath as I try to calm myself even as I feel the panic creeping in.

“The serum will go into effect in sixty seconds.” He explains in his usual clinical voice as he takes a seat in front of the computer. “It will trigger your amygdala, the part of your brain that processes fear. The serum will then produce a hallucination based upon the fears you have. You will stay in the simulation until you have calmed yourself down or beaten your fear. Once your heart rate is within the normal range, the simulation will end. The footage will be forwarded to Dauntless administrators, but it will be kept confidential.”

I listen to his explanation as well as I can, but I feel the first signs of a panic attack coming on. My palms are starting to sweat, my heart is trying to beat right out of my chest, and I feel as if I can’t draw in a proper breath. Four softens his expression and lowers his voice, sympathy clouding his words.

“The first time is always the worst. Be brave, Indie.”

* * *

A harsh gasp escapes my lips for but a moment before an invisible force pulls me back under the waves. The world’s gone quiet, muffled by the icy water surrounding me on all sides. My eyes burn as the water sloshes past before I’m pulled up above the surface once more.

I gasp for air as my eyes dart around wildly, trying to take in as much detail as I can before the current rushes over me. Concrete walls contain the body of water and if I crane my head back just far enough I can see a light from up above. I am in the Chasm, that much I can tell, but how I came to be here is a mystery.

Just moments ago I was speaking with Four and now I’m drowning in the Chasm. How did I get here? Did Four put me here? Does he know my secret and now he’s doing what needs to be done? Before I can even fully consider these questions I feel the tide pull me back under once more.

The water pushes down on me from all sides yet I remain just beneath the surface, never further down. I struggle against the force of the current but I know it’s no use. It only leaves me exhausted and in more of a panic than ever before. I feel like my body is a rag doll that children in Amity used to play with, tossed from left to right and back again at the will of an invisible force.

I push my arms and legs out in an attempt to force myself to move but I find no leverage in my watery prison. I am unsure if I’m pushing myself further down into the water or if I’m just imagining it, but it is abundantly clear the motion is of no use to me. My lungs strain against my chest and I long to remember what it feels like to breathe in air like a normal person.

I feel darkness begin to engulf me and for the briefest of moments I contemplate warring against it, but I have nothing left in me to fight. I give in to the darkness and allow the current to take me into a watery grave. I am not made for Dauntless. I cannot fight through my fear to save myself.

Wait. I need to fight through my fear.

Four said simulations pull images from our deepest fears. This isn’t real, this is a simulation.

The knowledge that this isn’t real fills me with a renewed energy. I kick out my arms and legs, managing to pull myself up above for the water for one blissful second. I gulp in as much air as my lungs will allow before I allow myself to be pulled back under, the world gone quiet beneath the waves once more.

I turn my body away from the surface, kicking wildly as I force myself to sink deeper and deeper into the water. The water tries to pull me up now, to return me to its careful control, but I do not let it. I can feel my fear slipping away from me as my fingers brush against the concrete depths of the Chasm.

I can breathe again.

* * *

I come to with a strangled gasp shooting straight up in the chair. My eyes are wide with a wild terror running amuck in their depths. My breathing is ragged and I clutch the arm of the chair like a lifeline, my knuckles white as snow. Four does not move from behind the computer, staring at me like he’s just seen a ghost.

A new wave of panic crashes over me at his reaction. I feel myself begin to tremble as the blood pounds in the back of my head. He knows. I don’t know how he knows, but I know that he knows. He must know.

Will he be the one to kill me himself? Turn my simulation into a reality and toss me into the Chasm? Or will he report me to the leaders and let them decide how to kill me? Would Eric be the one to do it? I hope not. I can’t explain why, but the only thing worse than death would be to have Eric deliver it upon me.

“How long do you think you were in the simulation?” He breaks the silence after a few tense minutes, looking as if he is fighting very hard to control his reaction. The eerie calm he manages to inject into his tone does little to soothe my burning my nerves.

“I don’t know.” I’m still panting and I clench my hands into fists even as my fingernails bite into the skin of my palms. “Twenty minutes?”

“Five.” He corrects me, shooting me a significant look I cannot interpret. “No one has even come close to your time. I have never seen _anyone_ do that well on their first try.”

I don’t know what to say that, what he wants me to say, so I say nothing.

“You can go back to your dormitory and rest now. There’s no other training for the rest of today so you’re free to do as you wish. I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning, same time.” I nod and stand to leave, receiving one last before I slip out the door behind the computer.

I end up in a different dark hallway than the one that I began the day in. I haven’t the faintest idea where I am, but I’m not about to go back inside and ask Four for directions. I wander down the hall aimlessly, hoping I am going in the right direction. It is a terribly long stretch of hallway and the blue lights feel like they’re spaced further apart than normal. I wonder if it is done with the intention of keeping us on edge after simulations.

I stay the course until I reach new light, finding myself before the net we jumped into on our first day. I stare up at the woven rope as I consider the day I first jumped into it. I had felt so breathless and free as I landed in it. I feel breathless now, but certainly not free.

I know that I should return to the dorms and take advantage of this rare opportunity to rest, but I am too fired up to sleep now. I wonder if my body can sense that the end is near and it wants to soak everything in before it can’t anymore. Or maybe it’s just gearing up for one last fight.

My feet walk a familiar path of their own accord, not sure where I’m being lead until I find myself in the same hallway of residences as yesterday. I force myself to turn around once I realize where I have come. I have no desire to speak with Eric right now in spite of whatever delusions my feet may be under.

However, just as I’ve turned myself around, I find none other than the Devil himself standing in my way. He looks strangely unsurprised to see me, as if he expected me to come, but he does not look pleased either.

“Are you lost?”

“No.” I snap, as if I’m in any position to mouth off to him. Or maybe I am, since my life will soon be at its end anyway. “Just wandering.”

“To my apartment?” I do not deem this worthy of a response so I refrain from making one. “Do you want to come inside?”

“No.” His face turns frustrated and I’m not sure if it’s with me, or himself. “I just came from simulations.”

I don’t know why I’m telling him this. I’m sure he’s well aware that the initiates are doing simulations this morning. Even if he wasn’t, I’m not sure why I think he would care.

“Ah.” He nods slowly, as if this is enough to explain all of my behavior. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” I whisper as I swallow down the sudden overwhelming urge to cry.

“The first time is always the worst.” His voice is sympathetic and he almost looks human. It’s the exact same thing Four said to me but, somehow, hearing it from him carries more weight. “You’ll get used to it.”

“What was your first simulation?” My mouth falls open before my brain can put a stop to it. If he is surprised or dismayed by my question, he hides it well.

"You first."

"Drowning. I was in the Chasm.” I answer without a moment’s hesitation. He nods as a thoughtful expression crosses his face.

“That was one of mine too.” I smile despite myself. There is a strange sort of comfort in this shared experience.

“Was? So does that mean that you got over it?”

“No.” His face is apologetic and I’m not sure why. “But it _is_ possible to get over your fears.”

“I’m surprised, I thought you were fearless.” I smile to let him know I’m only teasing him. “Isn’t Dauntless supposed to mean fearless?”

“I wish.” He grins as if we’re both in on the same joke and maybe we are. “Dauntless means to act fearless, not to be fearless. To be Dauntless is to act despite your fears, to not let them force you into inaction.”

“I wish I wasn’t so afraid.”

“You hide it well.” I don’t believe that for a second, but it makes me feel better even so.

“I guess I learnt it from you.” The grin that splits across his face leaves me breathless for but a moment and I’m almost to forget this is the same man who hung Christina over the Chasm and threw knives at Tris.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come inside?”

“I’m ok.” I tell him and this time I mean it. “I think I’ll go back to the dormitory and take a nap instead.”

“Well, you’ve certainly earned it.” He winks, stepping past me to go in to his own apartment. I sense him hesitate and I turn around, startled by the unsure expression on his face. “Do you have feelings for Bud?”

“No.” I decide to be honest and not drag this out. He doesn’t say anything but I can see the way the nervous set to his shoulders abates. “Do _you_ have feelings for Bud?”

“Not for him, no.” We share a small smile and I feel the tension melt away. “You know my hands are tied, right? I can’t do anything without proof, no matter how much I might believe you.”

“I know you can’t.” My voice is soft, gentle, and it’s about as close to an apology as I’m willing to give right now. He seems to accept this, his expression morphing into an encouraging smile.

“Be brave, Indie. You belong here.”


	15. He Deserved It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The italicized sentences are direct quotes from the newspaper article in the book. I’m trying to get on a semi-consistent posting schedule of every two or three days, but I’m in my last semester and running my own research project plus trying to line up a job or internship after graduation so sometimes I get a little caught up with other things. Rest assured, I have no plans to leave y’all hanging for more than a week at most. Hope you enjoy!

When I make my way back to the dorms I can see Tris and Four speaking outside. I decide to hang back and let them have some privacy. A small part of me wonders if there’s something going on between them, but I push that thought aside in an instant. If there is something between those two it shall stay between just them. Besides, I don’t exactly have a leg to stand on myself.

I wait until Four walks away, an uncharacteristically breezy smile on his face. He doesn’t notice me and I’m relieved. I don’t know how exactly I could explain lurking around the corner while he and Tris spoke.

When I walk into the dorms, everyone is gathered around Peter’s bed like he’s a king holding court. He holds today’s newspaper in his hands as he reads from it, a gleeful smile plastered across his face. Tris stands by, practically vibrating with fury, while Christina looks between them apprehensively.

" _The mass exodus of the children of Abnegation leaders cannot be ignored or attributed to coincidence. The recent transfer of Beatrice and Caleb Prior, the children of Andrew Prior, calls into question the soundness of Abnegation’s values and teachings._ "

Oh no, not this. 

" _Why else would the children of such an important man decide that the lifestyle he has set out for them is not an admirable one? Molly Atwood, a fellow Dauntless transfer, suggests a disturbed and abusive upbringing might be to blame. 'I heard her talking in her sleep once,' Molly says. 'She was telling her father to stop doing something. I don’t know what it was, but it gave her nightmares.'_ "

Molly’s grin is sinister as she looks quite pleased with herself. Personally, I would be more concerned about getting my teeth knocked out if I were her. But it’s never been said that Molly is particularly bright.

"What?" Tris demands, her voice like glass breaking in the silence. Peter looks up, seemingly noticing her for the first time. If possible, the self-satisfied expression on his face only grows more joyful. "Give me that." She holds out her hand even as her face burns furiously. I can’t quite discern if it is from anger or embarrassment, but I’m hoping for anger.

"Oh, I'm not done yet." Peter laughs as I’m filled with the sudden urge to knock that grin right off his smug little face. " _However, perhaps the answer lies not in a morally bereft man, but in the corrupted ideals of an entire faction. Perhaps the answer is that we have entrusted our city to a group of proselytizing tyrants who do not know how to lead us out of poverty and into prosperity._ "

For months now the Erudite have been flooding the paper with propaganda about the Abnegation. They’ve put out countless articles criticizing the faction. Everything from their dealings with the factionless to the integrity of their leaders has been under scrutiny and subject to fodder.

The core values of Amity dictate that we do not take a side, but we have always had a close relationship with the Abnegation. As a faction we abstained from receiving the newspaper all together months ago. Even if the articles didn’t stink of malicious slander, we wouldn’t trust anything put out by the Erudite.

Tris storms up to him and tries to make a grab at the paper. He jumps up, holding it high above her head out of reach. She doesn’t let this deter her as she stomps on his foot as hard as she can. He winces, but his stance doesn't falter. I'm not surprised when she decides to throw herself at Molly instead, knowing her role in this ordeal. She stumbles backwards but Will grabs Tris before she can inflict any real damage. 

"That's my father!" She screams. "My father, you coward!"

Will pulls her from the dormitory, but Christina and I stay put. Al walks up to Peter, easily snatching the newspaper out of his hands as Peter struggles to hang on. I march up to him while he's distracted and strike him once in the nose. He screams as I feel the bone crunch beneath my hand. I'm sure that I'll get in trouble for this later, maybe even thrown out, but I just can't find it in me to care. 

The three of us file out of the dormitory to join Will and Tris out in the hall like there’s nothing wrong. Christina suggests we go to get tattoos and Tris readily agrees, though she seems distracted. I conceal my rapidly swelling fist behind my back, making sure to keep it out of view from Tris the whole way up to the parlor.

I’m not ashamed of what I just did. I know that I should be, but there isn’t one part of me that regrets what I did to Peter. Well, there is a small part of me that wishes I had socked him somewhere less visible. I’m sure he’s down at the infirmary now, crying to anyone who’ll listen about how I just attacked him for no reason and he wants me kicked out. I know that Eric will be pissed, but I can’t let myself think about that right now.

We don’t have to say a word when arrive at the mercifully empty tattoo parlor. Tori and Bud read the situation quickly, almost definitely having already seen today’s newspaper. Tori ushers Tris and Christina to some chairs on the other side of the shop. Al and Will browse the book of sample pieces while Bud escorts me into the back room.

Neither of us say a word as he pulls out a first aid kit and sets to work. My knuckles have slit open and dried blood cakes the spaces between my fingers. He winces in sympathy as I cringe at the stinging sensation of the antiseptic on my open wounds, but I relax as it sets to work. He wraps my hand in gauze soon after before laying an ice pack neatly on top. The chill resonates through the thin gauze and I feel myself finally beginning to calm down.

“Was it that Candor kid?” He asks and I’m surprised he knows. When I don’t respond, he elaborates. “The really obnoxious one whose name starts with a P. Percy? Parker?”

“Peter.” I clarify. “I punched him in the face. I think I broke his nose.”

“Is his nose made of steel?”

“Shut up.” I laugh though it’s cut off as the motion reaches my sore hand. “Do you think they’ll kick me out for this?”

“Nah.” Bud scoffs. “I’m sure he deserved it.”

"He did." 

"Was he shocked?"

"Oh yeah." Despite myself I can't help but laugh as I remember the look of shock that was on his face. "He screamed. I'm pretty sure he's in the infirmary right now, crying about how I came at him out of nowhere."

"Well I sure hope Quinn is the admitting nurse right now." I shoot him a puzzled look and he elaborates. “She was on our team during capture the flag. He was so obnoxious I’m sure she would have punched him herself if she had the opportunity. She’ll be less than gentle when bandaging him up, I’m sure of it.”

"Good." 

"Do you think he'll rat you out?"

"Maybe. Probably doesn’t want to make himself look bad."

"Yeah, he probably won't want to admit he got beat up by a girl." I scoff, pretending to be deeply offended even though I know he’s joking and he laughs at the look of mock outrage on my face.

"A girl who broke his nose, no doubt."

"Come on, killer." He laughs, pulling me up with him and back out onto the floor. "Let's go get you a new tattoo."

* * *

Al sprints through the Pit with Christina slung across his back. Will, Tris, and I lag behind as we giggle at their antics. Tris had been horrified when she saw my injured hand, but I told her that I punched the machine when I woke up from my simulation. She believed me, for the time being, but I’m sure that will change the next time she sees Peter’s face.

The muscles in my left shoulder burn from my new tattoo, but the pain fades quicker each time I get a new one. Christina and Tris talked me into joining them so we all ended up with the seal of Dauntless on our shoulders. Will and Al opted out of more tattoos, content with the pieces they each have for now.

Considering that neither Four nor Eric have sought me out I presume that Peter didn’t rat me out. Or, they have yet to decide what punishment they’re going to dole out for “savagely attacking” another initiate. Will had look surprised when I filled him in on what happened after he left, but there wasn’t a single trace of disapproval. He readily agreed with Bud and me, Peter deserved that punch and so much worse for all the shit that he’s pulled.

“What was your fear in simulations today?” Will asks as we all watch Al start to spin in wild circles up ahead.

“Crows.” Tris admits with a full-body shudder. “You?”

“Acid.” Will frowns at the memory, turning to me. “How about you?”

“Drowning in the Chasm.” They both wince, sympathetic. “It felt so _real_.”

"That's because of the way the system is set up." I can see him slip into full Erudite mode like he does when he’s explaining something, but I find it endearing. "It's actually quite fascinating, the way it works. It's a struggle between your thalamus, which produces the fear, and your frontal lobe, which makes decisions. So even though the simulation feels real, it's actually just in your head. You're doing it to yourself, and…" He trails off as he notices our expressions, embarrassed. "Sorry. It's a habit."

"It's interesting." Tris assures him and I nod in agreement.  

I spy Four leaning up against the railing by the chasm, surrounded by people. I recognize Zeke and Shauna, but I don't know any of the others. He's laughing at something someone said, needing to hold onto the railing for balance. He has a glass bottle in his hand and his cheeks are flushed a deep red. He’s either intoxicated or halfway there. 

"Uh-oh." Will warns, eyeing him wearily. "Instructor alert."

"At least it's not Eric." Tris mutters. I don't expect the sting I feel at her words, like a slap in the face. "He'd probably make us play chicken or something."

"Four is plenty scary on his own. Remember when he pointed a gun at Peter's head? I'm pretty sure he just about wet himself."

"Peter deserved it." I say, my voice hard. Will doesn’t argue, not that I think he would.

"Tris!" Four shouts, spotting us. Our eyes widen, and even Al and Christina stop to look. Four pushes himself off the railing and makes a beeline for Tris, ignoring the rest of us and that’s just fine by me. "You look different."

His voice is sluggish and his words are slurred. I smirk. Definitely intoxicated. 

"So do you." Tris says, the picture of polite. "What are you doing?"

"Flirting with death." He laughs to himself. It isn't funny, but the rest of us crack a smile anyway. "Drinking near the chasm. Probably a bad idea."

"Yeah, it is." Tris agrees. Her shoulders are tense, but I blame it on her lack of association with intoxicated people rather than a discomfort with Four. I saw the two of them talking earlier, they seemed quite comfortable with one another then.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo." He murmurs, taking another sip as he looks at her collarbone. "Oh. Crows."

He turns to look back at his friends, none of whom pay us any attention. I'm sure Tris wishes that we would follow suit and leave them be but that won’t be happening. 

"I'd invite you to hang with us, but you aren't supposed to see me this way."

"What way? Drunk?"

"Yeah…no." He corrects. "Real."

"I'll pretend I didn't." 

"That's nice." He leans in close, mouth just inches away from her ear. I'm not far enough away to miss it when he says, "you look good, Tris," but I'm willing to pretend for her sake. 

Tris laughs, her expression softening as her cheeks flush. "Stay away from the chasm, okay?"

"Of course." He winks before stumbling back to his friends.

Christina’s mouth falls open as her jaw makes it halfway to the floor while Will and Al look at Four like they’ve never seen him before. Given my own interactions with Eric and what I saw earlier, I am not nearly as shocked as I know I should be. Will clears his throat but Tris pays him no mind, keeping her eyes on Four as he makes it back to the railing.

Al rushes over to Tris and tosses her over his shoulder like she’s a rag doll. She shrieks and Four turns back to us. He looks annoyed, but also frustrated like he knows he has no right to be.

“Come along, little girl.” Al declares, turning to walk out of the Pit. “It’s time for dinner.”

We are merciful friends and wait until we are far enough away from the Pit before we pounce.

"What _was_ that?"

"What did he say?"

"Nothing." Tris insists, but none of us believe her for a second. "He was drunk, I doubt he even knew what he said."

"Right." Will replies, skeptical. I wonder if he also heard what Four said. "It couldn't possibly be because—"

Tris elbows him as I declare I'm hungry, effectively ending the conversation. Tris shoots me a grateful, but confused look. I don't know why I feel so compelled to keep her moments with Four private from the rest of the group. Maybe it’s because of my own questionable moments with Eric. Maybe it’s because I think the two of them could be cute together, but they need to figure it out in their own time. Maybe even it’s because my connection with Tris is stronger than with anyone else. 

Or maybe, just maybe, Dauntless hasn't managed to squash out all the Amity in me yet. 


	16. Trial by Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Amity quote from the ancients is supposedly by Hellen Keller, but the source is in dispute. Sorry for the shortness, I didn’t want to stretch it on for the sake of length and I couldn’t think of anything more to be added. Reviews make my life complete!

Last night I dreamt of drowning in the chasm. The water dragged me under, just as it had in the sim, but this time there was no saving myself. Forcing myself to swim deeper did nothing; no matter how much I swam, the bottom remained just far enough out of reach. 

I awoke in a cold sweat just before dawn. I know that I wasn't the only one plagued by nightmares, but we would never admit it to each other in harsh light of day. But in the darkened dormitory, out of sight of our fearless trainers, we exchanged empathetic glances and murmured reassurances. 

Today, I am the last initiate to go. Eric is here to observe and a small part of me wonders if that is the reason why I am last. If Four suspects my divergence, as I am almost certain he does, he would surely turn me in to Eric. They can dispose of me with no witnesses if I go last. 

As I predicted, Peter ran to the infirmary as soon as we left the dormitory. He refused to say who attacked him, but I know that was not done out of a sense of guilt or fear of retaliation. I am confident that he is keeping it up his sleeve for now, to be used later in the worst moment possible. I can’t bring myself to give a damn.

"Indie." Four’s voice is solemn when he calls my name and there is a tense set to his shoulders. I don't understand how I can be so blasé about my fate, yet I feel nothing as I enter the simulation room. If I am dead, at least I will be free of these nightmares. 

Eric doesn't acknowledge me when I enter the room. He's eyeing the wall, face blank, like he's so deep in thought a tornado could blow through the room and he'd be none the wiser. He doesn't even notice I'm there until I hiss as the needle pierces my skin. He narrows his eyes in Four's direction, as if he were the one being stabbed by the needle. Four ignores him as he steps over to the computer, shooting me the most reassuring smile he can muster. 

"Be brave, Indie." He tells me as my eyes fall shut, the ghost of a smile on Eric's face the last thing I see. 

* * *

I wake with a strangled gasp, thick smoke clawing at my throat. The room is so saturated the stuff that I can hardly see more than a few inches in front of my face. But I don’t need to see to know where I am. I’d know my home in Amity anywhere.

I stumble as I rise from my bed, choking on the cloying fumes as I make my way in the direction of the door. I yank it open, stumbling as a wall of intense heat nearly knocks me off my feet. I feel as if I’ve walked straight into the ovens where my mother bakes the bread for the faction, but I find no peace in this place.

“Mom!” I cry out as the drive to find my mother spurs me into actions. I stagger down the hall, calling out for her as I heard to her bedroom. The door is closed and locked, but I can hear her screaming for me on the other side.

I pound my fists against the door, throwing all my weight against it in a feeble attempt to break it down. I scream, my voice muddled by full-body sobs and gasps as I choke on the smoke. I run my hands along the doorjamb in a desperate attempt to find a spare key like the one we used to have on the front door.

Wait.

The doors in Amity homes are never, ever locked. Locking one’s door locks out the potential for kindness so it is strictly forbidden. It was a new change that came about when I was nine, shortly after my father’s passing and my time living with Johanna. Even if the Amity did want to lock their doors, locks were removed from every door in the whole faction.

“This isn’t real.” I whisper to myself, the realization pushing me into a state of instantaneous calm. I turn my head up to the ceiling and I’m shocked when I notice a sprinkler. There weren't any sprinklers in my home, but there are in this sim and I am grateful. I concentrate on them with all my might, begging and pleading to the powers that be to turn them on. 

I let out a wild whoop as water begins to rain down from the ceiling, soaking the whole house to extinguish the flames. The sound of my mother’s cry of relief is the last thing I hear before I wake.

* * *

The room is dead silent when I come to. Four remains frozen behind his computer, just as he did yesterday. Eric stands behind him with his eyes still on the screen, almost as if the two are stuck in some sort of hypnotic trance. 

I can feel the tension deep in my bones and I'm sure this is it. How will they do it? Toss me in the chasm, make my first fear a reality but with no chance of escape? Shoot me, like they do to faction leaders who betray the ideals of their faction? Or maybe Eric will throw knives at me, like he forced Four to do to Tris. Only this time, I know he won't miss. 

"I didn't know the Amity had sprinklers in their homes." Eric breaks the silence, looking as if he has forced himself to relax. If possible, the tension in Four's shoulders deepens and he eyes Eric wearily. 

"Some of them do." I say with as much confidence as I can muster. It isn’t a total lie; some of the buildings in Amity do have sprinkler systems built into the ceilings. None of those buildings house members, however. 

"Are fires a common occurrence in Amity?" His tone is casual, yet his face is anything but. 

"Not lately."

"Well as fascinating as this little lesson on Amity is," Four speaks, trying so hard to act casual but he fails miserably, "I have work. Meet back here at the same time tomorrow, don't be late."

I see the dismissal for what it is and scurry from the room. I do not know whether Four has just saved my life or delayed me from facing an inevitable end. What I do know is that he knows exactly what he just did.

There’s a commotion behind as Four shouts at Eric to come back. A second later I feel a hand wrap around my arm and drag me in the opposite direction. I don’t put up a fight as I allow him to lead down the hall and shove me into a tiny alcove lit by a single blue lit. The scene is familiar to us, but I am confident this will not end in another kiss.

"Eric, what—"

"Why did the sprinklers turn on?"

"Eric, let go of me!"

"Indie, why did the sprinklers turn on?"

"I don't know!" I shout, wrenching my arm away from his grasp. I stumble into the wall but I hardly notice as I see his nostrils flare furiously. 

"You know."

"I'm not an Erudite!" I argue, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. "I don't know the mechanics of what makes sprinklers turn on!"

"The fire had been going long before you went to your mother's room." He continues, ignoring my logical explanation entirely. "Why didn't they turn on until then, huh?"

"It's just a simulation, Eric!" I snap. "It's all in my head!"

It's clear he doesn't have a rebuttal to this from the way he just glares in response. We stare each other down for a solid two minutes, not a word passing between us. I don't know why I'm so angry. I don't want my final moments spent in anger. I may not be in Amity anymore, but it will always be a part of me. 

"Go." He sighs, his whole body deflating as he gives up. When I don't move, frozen in shock, he scowls. "Go!" His voice is firmer this time. I don't question it this time and scurry away from the alcove, not turning back once. 

* * *

I find a small alcove tucked behind the tattoo parlor. It’s so small that if you blink you’ll miss it, so I decide that makes it the perfect hiding spot. I had planned on going to see Bud in the hopes of letting the needle distract me, but he had been busy with another client. I kept walking and that’s when I noticed this place. I wasn't terribly keen on any human interaction at the moment anyway, so I jumped at the opportunity when I saw it. 

I'm curled up on the ground, resting my head atop my knees as I will myself not to cry. I can still taste the smoke in my throat, the despondent screams of my mother echoing inside my ears. Eric's grip on my arm leaves behind a phantom sensation, as if I am still waiting for him to pull me up from the floor and drag me to the chasm. 

Beneath the tears and the overwhelming terror at being discovered, I do not regret my choice. I might have been safer in Amity, but I would have never been happy. I would much rather be dead in Dauntless than alive in Amity, as grim as the thought may be. 

I only regret the friendships I have made. We might be each other's competition, but we've forged strong bonds that not even the threat of being factionless can break. I can only hope that my death will be easy on them and that it will not distract them from the end goal.

"Indie?" I flinch at the sound of a familiar voice, whipping my head around as I stifle a sniffle. Uriah stands in the opening, his expression sympathetic. "What are you doing back here?" 

"Just thinking." I tell him. He shimmies into the alcove, folding his long limbs down to sit beside me. 

"About what?"

"Simulations." I pick the most believable option. In a way, it is almost the truth. The simulations are what got me discovered. The simulations will be my downfall. 

"Yeah, they're rough." His voice is sad, but there is a darkness to his tone I do not understand. "I'm sure you did better than you think."

You have no idea. 

"Maybe."

We fall into a comfortable silence as Uriah seems to have figured out that I do not feel much like talking. There's an unexpected comfort in his presence, however unwelcome it might have been. I feel calmer knowing that there is someone else who understands almost everything. 

Dauntless initiation has a way of making you feel like you're alone. You fight your opponents by yourself, you face your fears by yourself, and at the end of the day you are the only person you can depend on to keep you here. Yet you are surrounded by people who are all going through the same thing as you. Friends or not, just knowing that there's people around who understand has a way of making it seem a lot less scary. 

There is a saying in Amity that was adopted from the ancients. Johanna brought it up whenever the topic of friendship and its virtue in our faction came up.  _'I would rather walk with a friend in the dark than alone in the light.'_ The last time I heard her say it was when we stopped ordering the paper slandering Abnegation. How ironic that even in my new faction, I have found a friend in a former Abnegation. 

"I meant what I said, you know." Uriah speaks up suddenly, breaking the silence. I must look confused, because he elaborates. "On the train. The transfers are more brave than the Dauntless born in many ways."

"That's not true." I laugh, but he shakes his head. 

"It is. You left your home behind to join a completely new faction. There was no guarantee that you would make it here, but you came anyway. That takes a lot of courage, a whole lot more than it does to stay."

"That's not courageous, that's foolish."

"No," he argues, "it's brave. Brave enough to get you through the rest of these simulations. Besides, being afraid makes you human. Acting in spite of your fear makes you Dauntless."

"Thank you." I whisper, unexpectedly touched. I never would have thought that the goofy boy I met on the train would know just the right thing to say when I am upset. 

"Just speaking the truth. Maybe I should have been Candor." He joked, making a move to stand. "We should head back. Everyone's been wondering where you went."

"I didn't mean to worry them." I frown, a twinge of guilt flaring in my chest. 

"You had more important things on your mind, I'm sure they'll understand." He assures me, grinning. "Besides, you're an Amity. Who could stay mad at an Amity?"

"I'm Dauntless now, you jerk." 

"I know. Don't you ever forget it."


	17. Monophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in update, I’ve been busy trying to get everything settled with school before coming home for spring break. This chapter deals (briefly) with her mother’s (hopefully obvious if I’ve done my job as a writer) depression. It doesn’t get too terribly dark or heavy, but if that topic makes you uncomfortable then you might not want to read it. I’ll have my Bachelor’s of Psychology in May and I myself have struggled with depression so I have to get up on my little soap box for a minute: depression is a serious medical condition and it cannot be cured by thinking positively or any other such grossly simplified “solution.” Depression is not weakness, it is not being dramatic, it is not being a downer, and it is not something that goes away by not thinking about it. Some of the warning signs of depression are a depressed mood lasting for more than two weeks, a depressed mood interfering with your ability to function at work or socially, and contemplating or planning to commit suicide. If you or someone close to you is experiencing any of these symptoms you should seek help as soon as possible. Though it is rare for depression to be cured completely, it can be treated. And that makes a huge difference.

Another day, another sim. 

We’ve been doing them for over a week now and in that time I’ve faced drowning, fire, an attack by faceless men, and betrayal. I can no longer find peace in sleep as my mind is confounded by visions of terror. Everyone suffers in the night and most of us are lucky if we can find even a moment of peace.

Betrayal was not by any measure the worst sim in content, but the aftermath was especially unsettling. I could see nothing but Eric and that faceless girl tangled together beneath his sheets, even once my eyes were open. They were so blended together I couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. I thought I might be sick every time I thought of it. I had no right to feel this way since I had no claim over Eric nor did I want one, but I was still unsettled.

I could only find solace in the fact that Eric was absent from sim training that day, pulled into a meeting with the other leaders even before the first initiate had gone. Four was merciful, pretending that the image was unclear and he couldn't see who was in the sim. The curious way he looked at me told me he wasn’t being entirely truthful. I know not what fresh horror the day will bring, but I am not eager to find out.

“Indie.” Eric is the one who calls out my name today while Four is busy fiddling with something on the computer when I walk in. Neither of them drop their aloof facades, but their eyes can’t hide their sympathy as they watch me. I wonder if watching all of us face our worst fears is just as exhausting for them too.

Eric moves my hair aside once I'm seated, his hand lingering on my neck even after the needle is gone. Four watches our every move intently, yesterday's sim still fresh in his mind. Somehow I know that he won’t say anything to Eric about what he saw beneath the sheets. All I can do is hope that today’s sim will not be a repeat of yesterday.

“Be brave, Indie.” Eric murmurs as he steps back. I focus on the way the light catches the piercing in his eyebrow as my eyes slide shut.

* * *

There’s a certain numbness that’s settled over me as I lay curled up in bed. There is no noise in the room save for the sound of my steady, measured breaths. I struggle to keep my eyes open, praying that I will soon fall into the sweet abyss of sleep once more. It is only there that I find any solace.

My hands are curled into loose fists resting on the edge of the bed. The skin is a pale, sickly shade that hints at a long winter spent indoors. I shift to the right, trying to look past my hands to see the rest of the room but even that seems to require all energy in my body. It is as though I am stuck beneath a cloud of despair with no way out.

“Mommy.” A voice pleads from across the room. It is small and timid as if it’s greatest fear is disturbing me. When I fail to respond I hear footsteps making their way towards me, revealing a much younger version of myself.

Yet, there is something off about this particular child. Her auburn curls are a shade lighter than my own, as if she has spent too much time in the sun. Her eyes are the same turquoise blue as my own, but there is a fire raging in tem that was absent in mine at this age. I do not understand for this child looks just like me at this age, yet she is too different to truly be me.

"Mommy, please." She begs as tears spring to the eyes I thought I knew so well. Her lower lip quivers and I feel something painful shift in my chest at the sight of her raw emotion. "I miss daddy too, but I need you." 

Her words are identical to the ones I spoke to my mother at this age. Any second now I expect Johanna to enter the room and discover what my father's death has really done to us. Only, the door never opens. 

I’m baffled now. Is this not a flashback? Is it a glimpse into some terrible future? The more I look around the room, the more I come to realize that it is not my mother’s bedroom back in Amity. This room is bathed in black, silver, and a red so deep it is nearly black. This is a bedroom in Dauntless.

I turn back to the little girl, my eyes catching in a mirror hanging on the wall just behind her. I expect to find my mother staring back at me, but instead I find my own reflection. I look back to the little girl and suddenly I can see no one but Eric in her features.

It is so obvious to me now that I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. She has his nose, his slightly pointed ears, and the same unsure frown he always sports whenever he speaks with me. The sight breaks my heart as I discover that I have become exactly who I have always feared I would be.

But it is not too late. This is just a simulation, it does not have to be my future. This is not real.

The realization that this is but a sim awakens me from the haze of devastation. I pull myself up from the bed and walk to the mirror, rearing my arm back before I punch the glass surface with all the strength I can muster. I watch with satisfaction as the whole thing shatters and it feels like all of my worst fears disappear in an instant.

I turn back around to the small child, wrapping her up in my arms as I release a full-body sob. She clutches onto my arms like they are the only thing anchoring her to this earth as we both begin to cry. I hold onto her as tightly as I can, wishing never to be taken from this moment.

But I must.

* * *

When I come to, I am perfectly calm. I do not gasp, I do not wonder where I am, and I do not sit up in the chair like I have been forced up from it. There is wetness on my face and I brush the remnants of tears away, avoiding the gazes of the two men still in the room. I know they are staring at me without needing to look their way, but I ignore them as I stand from the chair. I walk out the door without a word shared between us, making my way up to the alcove behind the tattoo parlor.

I sink to the floor with a heavy sigh, feeling as though I’ve released all of the weight from my shoulders in a single breath. Strangely, I do not feel the urge to cry like I did after yesterday’s simulation. I only feel numb, just as I did in the simulation, and it fills me with a fear worse than what any other sim has forced me to feel.

I have always worried that I would become my mother. I love my mother, more than anyone or anything left on this earth, but I never want to fall apart the way she did after my father died. Even at a young age I felt the need to do everything in my power to not become her. 

When my mother was away with the Erudite doctors, Johanna encouraged me to speak with one of the emotional counselors in Amity. Since I did not want to go airing our business to anyone who knows us, she called in one of the therapists from Erudite. The man who showed up looked stern, but his face turned unexpectedly kind when he asked me for my name. I soon grew comfortable enough to speak honestly with him and I told him the truth about what I feared.

He explained to me that, to my nearly overwhelming disappointment, depression is a hereditary condition. It’s well within the realm of reason that I could become precisely like my mother.

_'However,'_ he'd said, _'there is so much more to depression than just genetics.'_  Even if I were to end up in identical circumstances, there is no guarantee that I would react in the same way. _'The fact that you are so fearful of ending up the same way,'_ he'd said, _'tells me that you are unlikely to do so. You are aware of the risk and you know the warning signs. You would seek help before you reached the same point.'_

Even so, there has always been a small voice nagging at me in the back of my mind.

Maybe this is the real reason why I have been so reluctant to pursue something with Eric. He is cruel, sure, but it has become more apparent to me over time that it’s just an act he puts on. He has done terrible things to my friends, that I will not deny, but I know now that they were in a misguided attempt to help them. I am willing to forgive all his indiscretions, yet I cannot bring myself to act upon the feelings that I know we both have. I am sure now that it is because of this fear that I hesitate and for that I am ashamed.

I’m not surprised when I hear familiar footsteps coming towards the alcove. Eric stands at the entrance, his face turned down in sympathy when he sees me. The sight fills with an unexpected rage I cannot explain.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I warn him before he can even open his mouth, my voice frosty. If he is perturbed, he hides it well.

“I wasn’t going to ask you to.” He lies, dropping down beside me with a sad smile. “I just wanted to see if you’re ok.”

“I’m fine.” I retort. It is clear to both of us that I’m lying.

“If you say so.”

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap. A small voice in the back of my head reminds that he is both a leader and my trainer, but I ignore it. 

"If you say you’re fine, then you’re fine. That’s all." It is not his words so much as his aloof disposition that sets me off. 

"Of course I'm not fine!" I shout. I'm so angry that I don’t even notice the look of satisfaction on his face as I crack. "How could you possibly think I was fine?!"

"I didn't, you did." His expression is smug and it makes me want to punch that look right off his face. I did it once with Peter and I’d gladly do it again. "Tell me about it."

"I don't want to talk about it." I grumble, turning away from him as I cross my arms. I know I am behaving like a petulant toddler but I can’t find it in me to give a damn.

"Sometimes talking about your issues can help you move past them."

"Thank you, Dr. Coulter." I scoff and he laughs heartily.

"You don’t have to be a doctor to know that bottling everything up does little to help you heal. Tell you what, we’ll play a game. I’ll trade you one of my deep dark secrets for one of yours."

“That sounds like a dumb game.”

“I’ll start. I only became a leader because Four told Max no. I was their second choice and they never let me forget it.”

"I didn’t know that." I whisper, looking back down at my knees. For the first time since I left my sim I am finally beginning to feel embarrassed by my behavior. 

"There's a lot you don't know about me." He says, softening his expression as he bends his head to look at me. "I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Whatever you tell me will stay right here in this alcove."

"My dad died when I was little and my mom found his body." I admit. Eric sucks in a harsh breath, apparently not expecting this. "She went…catatonic. She didn’t get out of bed for a week and I couldn’t get her to eat anything. Johanna had to call the doctors from Erudite to take her away until she could be trusted to be on her own again. What you saw in there…that’s pretty much what Johanna found when she came to check up on us."

"Indie, I’m so sor—"

"Don't." I whisper, holding up my hand to stop him. I don't want his pity, or his sympathy. "Please just…don't."

He nods, shutting up. We fall into silence and I'm surprised by how comfortable this feels. Just three days ago I was convinced he was going to kill me and now here we are trading secrets. 

"I love my mother. I don't regret leaving her and Amity behind, but I still love her very much."

"Those feelings don't go away overnight, if they ever do. Faction before blood doesn't mean that you don't love the people you left behind. It means that you place a greater importance on your new faction than on your loved ones."

"Did yours ever go away?" I ask, unable to stop myself. He hesitates for a moment and I instantly feel bad. "I'm sorry, you don't—"

"Sometimes I think they have. Other times…I know I'm just kidding myself." He explains, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I interrupted you. Go on." He didn't, but I don't point it out to him. 

"Like I said, I love her. But I’m so scared of becoming just like her. I’m so terrified that I’ll build a life here with a husband and children, then one day I’ll wake up and they’ll be gone. Then what do I do? How could I possibly put myself back together after that?"

"Indie, you are not your mother." He tells me, his tone leaving no room for argument as his face turns determined. "You were brave enough to leave your birth faction behind and move somewhere new. You didn’t know anyone, you had no guarantee that would succeed, yet you went anyway. I won't pretend to know your mother's life story, but something tells me she didn't do that."

"Born and raised in Amity." I laugh, even though there really isn’t anything funny about it.

"Exactly. As far as I'm concerned, you've already proven that you're different. Besides, your mother was very sick. If the doctors from Erudite felt that she needed to be taken away in order to heal then there was clearly something very wrong. I’m not saying that Dauntless don’t also battle depression, but you’ve been through it before with your mother. You know the warning signs and you know when to get help. You wouldn’t let yourself fall that deep when you know what to look for.”

“What if I ignored the signs?”

“Maybe. But it just doesn’t fit in with the person I’ve come to know these past few months.”

"There’s a lot you don’t know about me." I echo his earlier statement and he smiles sadly.

"I know more than you think." His statement is cryptic, but he moves on before I can ask him about it. "You’re strong, Indie, so much stronger than you think. Your mother is lovely, but she is not Dauntless. But you? You were made for this place. Of course you would be upset if you lost your family. Despite our best efforts, we are all still human. No one is impervious to tragedy, not even Dauntless. But you have a fight in you that nothing, not even something as awful as that, can take away. You know what you’re dealing with, you know how bad it can get. You’d seek help at the first sign. You would make it through stronger on the other side, just as you have with so many other things in your life."

"Thank you." I whisper, mortified to find myself blinking back tears. His smile is kind when he looks at me and I'm so surprised to find this little bit of Amity in him that I find myself smiling back. 

"You're welcome." He murmurs, tucking an auburn lock behind my ear. There is a fondness in his expression that warms my heart in ways I cannot explain. "Besides, you have so many people here that love you already. They wouldn’t let you fall."

"You know, I was so worried about leaving my mom. I thought it was because I was afraid to leave her alone, but I think I was the one scared of being alone. I'm so glad I’ve found a new family in Dauntless. I can’t imagine myself anywhere else."

"Neither can I." He grins and I grin right back, a giddy feeling rush up the length of my spine at the sight.

I can no longer deny that I have feelings for Eric. Not with the way my heart beats that much faster when I see him and my stomach tightens when he is near. I hate myself for it but, even more, I just don’t care. 


	18. The Past Belongs in the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I’ve been thinking about since I first started writing this story. As a consequence, it is also the longest chapter I’ve ever written. I’m so excited that I finally got to write it (all nearly 4,000 words of it) and I hope it lives up to the expectations in my own head. Once again, I have to warn that this chapter deals with some really dark stuff. I tried to not go too heavy on the details describing her father’s death, but there is some description that some readers may find disturbing. If suicide and hangings are a trigger you, skip the section describing her simulation. Once more, if you or your loved ones are struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide seek help immediately. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem and it leaves a tidal wave of devastation in its wake.

The last day of stage two begins without much fanfare. I wake early, the reflection of my utterly despondent expression in the sim burned into my memory. I eat breakfast in the dining hall with Tris, the two of us so wrapped up in our own heads the conversation is kept to a minimum. I even have the time to squeeze in a quick run, but I still feel just as on edge as I did before I left. 

I cannot shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. Nothing has happened to give me the impression that today will be any different from the others, but an uneasy feeling plagues me as I wait in the hall with the rest of the initiates. Even Uriah seems on edge, his attention so focused inward Four has to repeat his name three times.

I try to tell myself that it's just nerves about it being the last day. This is my final opportunity to use this stage to maintain my rank from the last and even maybe move up. Four has told me that I have done well, but I do not know how the others have done. Complacency will not help me to stick around. 

I'm lost in my own train of thought when I'm called into the room. Eric shoots me a reassuring look and even Four gives me a small smile as he injects me with the serum. Their confidence does little to improve my own.  

The darkness begins to close in on me and I feel an unexpected wave of panic wash over me. I know, deep in my bones, that this simulation will be unlike any of the others I have faced. I only hope that I can find a way to make it out alive. 

* * *

I’m back in Amity once more. Our home looks just as it did when I left, but there is something in the air that just feels different. I walk with trepidation across the floorboards as I call out of my parents. Neither respond, even though a quick look at the clock tells me they should be home at this hour.

A quiet, unfamiliar voice in the back of my mind tells me to go look in their bedroom. I turn that way down the hall, an uneasy feeling blooming in my chest when I notice that their door is partially open. I push it open the rest of the way, my eyes slow to register the atrocity before me.

I see my father, the same turquoise eyes I see the in the mirror each day staring back at me blankly. His skin is drastically paler than usual and there is a bluish tint to his lips. It's not until my eyes wander down to his neck that I see the thick rope wrapped around it, suspending him from the ceiling.

I emit a strangled gasp, stumbling backwards as I feel the room begin to close in on me. I can’t breathe as I am bombarded by the sight of my father, the rope tight around his neck and the absence of life in his eyes. Hysterical sobs pour from my body as I look him over, the perfect stillness of his body all I can see. My whole world fades to nothing but him as I feel myself fall to the ground, shutting down. 

Suddenly, a chaotic scene interrupts the image of my dead father. I recognize the simulation room interspersed with my home in Amity. Eric stands over me with a strange-looking machine, his lips moving a mile a minute but I do not hear a word as he says. Four stands nearby, a phone glued to his ear as he looks between Eric and myself with a more panicked expression than I’ve ever seen from him.

The simulation bleeds into reality as the images move back and forth in my head. They switch between one another so quickly they all become one big blur of terrifying overlap. I can't breathe, I can't think, I can only feel the panic consuming me more and more with every passing second. 

My whole body starts to shake, back arching against my will as my hands clutch the arms of the simulation chair. A scream is ripped from my throat and a crushing weight settles against my chest. The last thing I see is Eric standing over me with tears in his eyes, his expression utterly devastated. 

Then everything goes black. 

* * *

The first thing I become aware of is a warm, gentle weight clutching my hand. The next is the low, muffled beep of some sort of machine in the vicinity. I feel soft sheets cocooning me as a harsh brightness beats me down on me beyond the lids of my eyes. I have a sneaking suspicion that I am in the infirmary, but I cannot remember why.

"I can't believe I didn't see it." A familiar voice speaks, interrupting my thoughts. It takes me a moment to place it as Four's, the astonishment in it unfamiliar to my ears. His presence leads me to believe that whatever happened to me to put me in the infirmary occurred during training. I'm about to open my eyes to ask him, but I stop when a second voice cuts in. 

"Good." Eric. I would know his voice anywhere. "I don't want anyone else to know."

"Well, I'm pretty sure the way that you behaved when we brought her in may have tipped off Max. Punching the doctor like you did wasn’t exactly subtle.” Four's reply is so blanketed by amusement it takes me a moment to register the words. Eric punched a doctor? I can only imagine the story behind that. 

"Yeah, well, I can handle Max. The rest of this faction, however…"

"Your secret's safe with me." The two fall into silence and I realize it's the most civil I've ever heard them speak to one another. "I care about her. I'd hate for her to suffer because of perceived favoritism from you."

"I wouldn't—"

"You might. We actually don't know each other all that well. But, for the record, I don't think you would."

"For the record, I don't think you would either with the Stiff."

"How did you—"

"I'm smarter than I look, you know. But don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

I’m not surprised to hear it confirmed that there’s something between Four and Tris. I’d sensed it long ago and while I should be satisfied by the fact that I was right, I’m too caught up in my shock that Four is from Abnegation. I wonder if they knew one another before? If whatever’s between them had been brewing long before Tris cut her hand over those burning coals.

"How long has… _this_ been going on?"

"Officially? It hasn't started yet. There's been something brewing for a while now. I only started to see it when she yelled at me for making you throw knives at your girlfriend."

"She’s not my girl—wait, she _yelled_ at _you_? And she’s not factionless right now? And _that’s_ when you figured out you had feelings for her? You are one strange man."

"She yelled at me, I kissed her to shut her up, she slapped me, and then I realized that I’d already fallen for her."

"Wow."

"I know, strange man, you've already said."

"Do you think Max will be angry?"

"He won't be thrilled, but as long as we keep it under the radar until she's a member he won't care. Besides, he's been telling me I need to get laid for years."

"Please don't tell me that's all this is about."

"Of course not.” Eric’s voice is hard, but it softens in the next sentence as if he reminds himself to not be so hostile. “There's just something about her that draws me to her, even though I shouldn't be. I can't explain it."

"I know exactly what you mean." The two fall into silence once more and I'm grateful. I need a moment to process everything I’ve just heard.

I _knew_ there was something going on with Tris and Four, but I didn't know what. I can't believe that not only is Eric admitting his feelings for me, but he's admitting them to _Four_ of all people. I can only imagine the circumstances that pushed him to this point.

"How long did the doctors say it would be until she woke up?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer, presuming they did their jobs right." 

"I'm sure they did everything right."

"I know. I'm just…"

"A man in love?"

"Something like that." 

I decide that I've eavesdropped on their conversation for long enough and it's time to wake up. I squeeze the hand wrapped around my own, catching the gasp from Eric's mouth. I flutter my eyes open, shrinking away from the bright lights as I raise my hand in a feeble attempt to shield my eyes. 

Eric, who looks so relieved I feel a pang of guilt for not “waking” sooner, stands to obstruct the light. I can see Four leave the room out of the corner of my eye, failing to hide the amusement on his face as he presumably goes to get a doctor. Eric brings a hand up on either side of my face, his grasp so gentle I'm sure he thinks I might break. I smile, reaching a hand up to cover one of his. 

"Hi." I say, my voice hoarse from disuse. 

"Hi." He chuckles, elated, a relieved expression spreading across his face. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I was in the neighborhood." I shrug, unable to tamp down the grin on my face. "I'm glad to see you."

"Not as glad as I am." He grins, leaning in to kiss my cheek. I wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull his mouth down to meet my own. He gasps, clearly not expecting me to be so bold. I've fought my feelings for long enough and now that I have confirmation that his exist, I won't hold back anymore. 

His lips are soft as they meet my own, his tongue gently prodding against the seam asking for entrance. I gasp, granting it to him as his finger traces designs along my cheek. His touch leaves behind a gentle burn and I relish in the feel of it. I run a hand through his hair, pulling him closer as I contemplate never letting go. 

Unfortunately, I must. Someone clears their throat in the doorway and we spring apart. I blush furiously as I spot Four, smirking at the two of us. Eric scowls, most displeased at being interrupted. 

"Enough of that, you two." Four scolds us, the ghost of a grin on his face as two more people enter the room. Max steps in, followed by a man dressed in black scrubs with a neon green skull tattooed across his neck. He holds a computer tablet, making a note of something before he shoots me a bright smile. 

"Welcome back, Miss Jagger. You've been very missed."

"Thank you, um…"

"Doctor Gary Hill, but you can just call me Doctor G. Do you remember what brought you to the infirmary?"

"Not really. The last thing I remember was starting my sim."

"I understand that your father passed away when you were a child in Amity." Max says, speaking for the first time. "I'm sorry for your loss. I know that you were young, but do you remember how he died?"

"He, uh, he hung himself." I answer, puzzled. "But what does that have to do with why I'm here?"

"During your simulation, one of your fears presented as you discovering your father's body." Doctor G explains, his voice clinical but his face sympathetic. "We weren't sure if it was a memory, or a scene concocted by the serum. Regardless, it triggered a severe reaction that resulted in a full-body panic attack. Your heart rate spiked, you struggled to breathe, you convulsed, and you lost consciousness. Your instructors tried to pull you out of the simulation, but it was too late by then. We gave you a powerful sedative to calm you, but it knocked you out for about six hours."

"So I had a panic attack over one of my fears? How am I supposed to pass initiation if I have a panic attack every time I go into that sim?"

"Indie, hey, it's ok." Eric assures me, his voice soothing as he grabs my hand. If Max notices the gesture, he ignores it. 

"I'm going to give you special permission to practice your sims to level the playing field. After dinner each night you will practice your simulation with either Four or Eric. Doctor G has provided a sedative to administer before each sim and the dosage will decrease over time." He pauses, shooting Eric a pointed look. "I'm sure I don't need to remind either of you that these sessions are for training purposes only."

I blush wildly as Eric laughs, kissing my hand as he assures Max that we both understand.

“So when can I get out of here?” I ask the doctor, eager to escape. I’ve never been one for infirmaries, too harsh and sterile for my tastes even in Amity, and I want to speak with my friends.

"I'm afraid you're going to need to stay overnight." Doctor G's apology is sincere, but it does little to improve my mood. "The attack put a lot of stress on your body. I don't want to release you for training, only for you to end up back here because you didn't rest for long enough."

"Are my friends allowed to visit me?" The thought of being stuck in the infirmary, alone, is a daunting prospect I don't want to consider. 

"I don't see any reason why not." He smiles, sensing my nerves. "But, they can't stay for more than thirty minutes."

"I'll go send someone to get them." Four volunteers, scurrying from the room. 

"I'd like to do an examination, now that you're awake." Doctor G requests, looking pointedly at Max. He nods, stepping out without a word as Eric stays put. The faint purple ring around the doctor's eye tells me that Eric will be staying for a while. 

Doctor G's examination is painless, but I am still relieved that Max and Four are not present. He checks my vision, listens to my heart, and checks my pain level. By the time Four returns he's all done and Max pulls Eric from the room to talk. 

"You don't have to keep me company, you know." I say, noticing how uncomfortable Four looks in the chair beside my bed. "I'm sure you have work to do, I'll be alright on my own."

"I can afford to spend ten minutes talking to one of my initiates." He smiles, but I can tell that it's forced. He turns to look at the door, checking that we're truly alone, before he begins to speak. "I know you were awake when Eric and I were talking."

"When was that?" I ask, playing dumb.

"I saw your hand twitch, you know when." I flush, embarrassed at being caught. "Don't worry, Eric didn't notice. I was hoping I could count on you to not tell anyone about Tris and—"

"I already knew." I interrupt him, giggling at the shocked expression on his face. "Well, I suspected anyway. I don't think anyone else has noticed, though. But you have no reason to worry about me saying anything. Tris is my friend and she deserves to be here. Your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you." He sighs, relieved. He glances at the door once more, lowering his voice when he continues. "Listen, you need to be careful with Eric. I'm not stupid enough to think that you'll listen to me if I tell you to stay away from him, but I want you to be careful. People like you have good reason to be weary of Dauntless leadership."

"What do you mean by people like me?" I whisper, feeling as though my heart has dropped to my stomach. 

"You know exactly what I mean." His tone is firm, but there is no malice in it. I don't know quite what to make of his warning, but I do not intend to ignore it. 

"Indie!" Christina squeals as she leads the way into the room, coming to an abrupt halt when she spots Four. Tris and Will follow in after her, looking amused by Christina's enthusiasm. They straighten up when they spy Four, especially Tris. I try not to laugh at the way they avoid each other's eyes, as if simply looking at each other will give it all away. "Oh. Hi, Four."

"Don't worry, I'm going." He grins, standing from the chair with a relieved sigh. "You guys have thirty minutes then a nurse is coming to kick you out, doctor's orders. Feel better, Indie."

"Thank you, Four." My friends are kind enough to wait until Four leaves the room before they all begin to speak at once. 

"What happened to you?"

"Are you alright?"

"What was he doing here?" 

"Woah, slow down." I laugh, gesturing for them to take a seat. "One question at a time, please."

"First, are you alright?" Tris asks, perching herself on the edge of the bed as the other two take the chairs. "We were so worried."

"I'm fine, I promise. I have to stay overnight and rest, but I'm otherwise alright. It's just a precaution."

"What happened to you in there?" Christina asks, more solemn than I've ever seen her look. "The last time we saw you, you were unconscious and on your way to the infirmary. Four and Eric looked like they were going to be sick."

"My sim mimicked a real memory from my childhood, so it triggered a panic attack and I went into shock. By the time Four and Eric realized there was something wrong, it was too late to pull me out of the sim."

"How are you supposed to face your fear in the final if it causes you to have a severe panic attack?" Will asked, looking aghast. "That hardly seems fair."

"Max agrees. I have to do extra training after dinner each night with either Four or Eric. They'll sedate me beforehand, and now they know what to look for to pull me out early if they need to. The more practice I get, the lower the dose will be each time. I have to keep practicing until I can do it without sedation or a panic attack."

"Good." Tris says, her voice firm. "You deserve to be here just as much as any of us. Your past coming up in your fears shouldn't hold you back."

"So what were you and Four talking about?" Christina asks, playing coy. Tris looks intensely uncomfortable by the turn in conversation and I rush to explain. 

"He was just keeping me company until you guys got here. I'm not big on the infirmary, sets my nerves on edge. I'm sure would have done the same for any of you."

" _Sure_ he would." Christina drawls, but Tris looks relieved by my response. 

"Anyway, enough about me. What did I miss?"

"Four stayed to finish up the sims, but Eric followed you to the infirmary. The rankings were posted after dinner." Christina pauses, turning to Tris. 

"What? What's wrong?"

"You're in second." Will smiles, a teasing lilt to his tone. "You knocked me out of the top three!"

"Who moved into the top three?" 

"I did." Tris says, her voice timid. "I, uh, I got first."

"Congratulations!" I cheer, beaming. "That's wonderful! What about you guys?"

"Fourth." Will answers. 

"Fifth." Christina says, smirking. "Molly is pissed that I'm still ranked above her."

"What about Al?" I ask, feeling a twinge of guilt as I notice for the first time that he isn't here. "Where is he, anyway?"

"Probably moping in the dorms." Christina grumbles, her face turning dark. "He's last."

"Poor Al." I whisper, but we leave it at that. None of us would ever say it out loud, but we know that Al won't make it. "Ugh, so Peter's third then?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Will confirms as Christina groans. 

"I'm sure he's none too pleased that you're first." I say to Tris and she nods, nervous. "Did he threaten you?"

"Yes he did." Christina answers for her. 

"Stay close to these two." I tell her, wincing at the memory of what happened the last time someone outranked Peter. "We all know exactly what he's capable of."

"I can't believe the leaders still haven't done anything about that." Christina bemoans, looking disgusted. "We all know he did it."

"Yes, but unfortunately we all lack this pretty important thing called evidence." I remind her and she groans. 

"I know. I just wish there was a way to get him to admit to it."

"Maybe they could give him some of that Candor truth serum."  

"They would need just cause to do that and our suspicions don't count." Will corrects me before he pauses, reading the room. "Oh. You were joking."

"I was, but it's nice to know why that isn't an actual option." I grin. The girls laugh as he blushes bright red, but I soften my smile to show I'm only teasing. 

We chat idly for a while longer, discussing our theories of what's coming up next. We begin the last stage of training tomorrow and we have no idea what to expect. As promised, almost thirty minutes to the second, a nurse comes into the room. She has bright, bubble gum pink hair and a sparkly purple stone pierced through her nose. She is polite, but stern when she tells my friends to say their goodbyes. They do so, reluctantly, but leave without a fight. 

Eric returns soon after, looking tired but no worse for wear than when he left. I take this to mean Max decided not to kill him or demote him because of our relationship. He smiles, softer than I've ever seen his face, and returns to his post in the chair beside my bed. He grabs my hand as his smile fades, suddenly looking unsure. 

"We need to talk."


	19. A Little Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that Bible verse of walking through the valley of the shadow of death? That’s me right now with school. I apologize for the delay in this update, this chapter was a bit like pulling teeth to write and I was so busy trying to get work done it took me longer than I planned to get around to it. I know many of you enjoyed seeing things from Eric’s perspective a few chapters back, so I think you guys will really enjoy this. Even if you didn’t care to see things from his view, this is an important chapter as much will be revealed. And as always, I want to thank you guys for your continued support of this story. It means so much to see you favoriting, following, and reviewing!

_Eric Coulter_

* * *

Simulations are the best and worst part of my job. I appreciate the opportunity it provides me to look inside the minds of my initiates—there is so much more to learn of someone when they’re facing their fears than when they fight—but, contrary to what most of this compound thinks, I do not relish in witnessing their suffering. I remember how much I struggled through my own fears and it takes me back to those moments of weakness I loathe to recall.

The worst is watching Indie go through her sims because all I want to do is jump in and save her. I have no doubt she is perfectly capable of handling them all on her own, but I can’t shake the urge to swoop in and save the day. I try to make myself scarce whenever her turn rolls around, but I can’t always escape in time.

I watch as Peter stumbles from the room with shaking hands and face the color of chalk. I would think he’d make an excellent soldier if I didn’t believe the accusations Indie made against him. Now all I can see when I look at him is a coward threatened by the success of others.

Four heaves an exhausted sigh once Peter’s cleared out, taking a quiet moment to recharge before he sets up the system for the next initiate. Simulations are hard on us both and for a brief moment of empathy I can forget that he is the one man in this compound I actually consider a threat. He lifts his head up from his arms a moment later, as if he’s suddenly just remembered who else is in the room, and passes the list of initiates to me.

I hold back a groan as I spy Indie’s name written below Peter’s and try to prepare myself for whatever comes next before I go get her. She looks anxious when she stumbles into the room and I try my best to shoot her a reassuring smile, but I doubt it helps. She winces when I inject her with the serum but the sight brings me less pain than it used to. Her expression turns uneasy as the serum takes over and the sight instantly puts me on edge. It’s not unusual for the initiates to be weary of what they might face, but it is odd for Indie. Suddenly I’m struck by the thought that this sim is going to be very different from the others.

I move to stand behind Four, uncharacteristically anxious to watch this particular sim today. He shoots me a curious look, knowing how I try to avoid watching her simulations, but says nothing. I see she is back in her home in Amity, but unlike the last time I saw her there the place is not on fire.

She calls out for her parents and walks down the hallway when she receives no response. I feel a sense of dread wash over me when she pushes open the door, hoping in vain that the man hanging from the ceiling is not her father but I know better. I expect for Indie to cry, scream, something other than just stand there and stare.

I glance at the sidebar that displays her vitals, but they look normal aside from an expected elevated heart rate. I turn back to the screen and I’m perplexed to see that she’s still frozen in place. I’ve seen a lot of initiates do a lot of strange things in their simulations in response to their fears, but never has anyone just stood there.

“Why isn’t she moving?” I murmur as Four and I both look to the sidebar, frowning. We watch intently as the numbers begin to steadily rise even as she remains frozen. Four starts to type something but still she does not move and this does little to calm my wildly growing nerves. “What’s going—”

Her heart rate suddenly skyrockets as she lets out a strangled gasp, back arching against her will and I snap my eyes from the screen to her. Back on screen her figure mimics her, gasping and stumbling backwards until she falls. Four and I both jump up as she begins to convulse, dragging a crash cart over to her chair as Four calls down to the infirmary.

I inject the anti-serum into her neck just below her pulse, hoping it will be enough to pull her out, but it’s useless. I tilt the chair back to begin compressions as I shout at Four to hurry up. Her eyes fly open and our gazes meet, but she can’t seem to focus on any one thing. I plead with her to wake up, to fight through it, but she doesn’t seem to hear a word I say.

Her eyes roll into the back of her head and her body begins to shake from head to toe and I don’t care how scared I sound as I beg Four to do _something_. He pulls out two more syringes form the cabinet, another vial of anti-serum and a clear liquid I’m pretty sure is a sedative. He stabs both into her chest at the same time and orders me to resume compressions. We both freeze as she lets out a terrible scream, back arching so high up I worry for a brief moment she’s broken her spine. Her whole body relaxes at once and then the screen goes black.

* * *

"Have you lost your mind, son?" Max demands without preamble. "I want you to think long and hard before you answer."

Once Doctor G had finished checking Indie over, Max returned to pull me away for a ‘little chat.’ I was hesitant to leave her so soon after she finally woke up, but I knew that putting off the inevitable wouldn’t make this any better. Besides, Max isn’t someone who takes no for an answer.

"Probably." I admit, shrugging my shoulders. "What does it matter to you?"

"What does it—you are on thin ice, here." Max snaps, raising his voice. I'm thankful we're tucked away in the leaders' offices, out of sight and sound of the rest of the compound. "Eric, I'm serious. What are you doing with this girl?"

“We haven’t exactly had a chance to discuss it.” I try to appear casual even as a tirade of thoughts burns through my brain. What if that kiss was just a one-off ‘hey I’m glad I’m not dead’ kiss and nothing more? What if she’s changed her mind now that the adrenaline and fear and lust has worn off? I sound like such an Amity.

“You have a mission here in Dauntless, Eric, don’t you forget that.” Max’s voice is stern as he says it, but his face is tired. We all are. Jeanine has been harassing us more and more lately, trying to get the plan up and running by the end of initiation. Her demands are beginning to take their toll on all of us. “You can’t let this girl distract you from—”

“She’s not a distraction.” I can see from the way Max steels himself that he senses the dangerous path his words are heading down. We stare back at one another in silence for a beat as he gathers his thoughts and I try to remain calm.

“I won't pretend that I'm thrilled with whom you are choosing to make yourself…happy.” The word sounds so foreign on his tongue I could laugh but now is not the time. “She's an initiate. No one can know about this, not until after she's a member— _if_ she is made a member.”

“She’ll be a member.” My words are like ice and I can see the effect they have on Max from the way his frown turns dark. “She’s ranked third, and from what I’ve seen in simulations she’ll keep climbing the ranks.”

“Among the transfers, but factor in the Dauntless born—”

“And she'll still rank high enough to be a member. She's good, Max, she’ll knock more than a few of the Dauntless born right out of here, I can promise you that.”

Sometimes I worry that she’s _too_ good, but I’m not about to tell that to Max. Once I say those words out loud there’s no going back. I’m well aware of what he and Harrison do to those who are accused. I’d sooner die than have to fish Indie’s body out from the bottom of the chasm.

“Well, while you’re in the mood for making promises, can you promise me that you will keep this quiet? I don’t need to have the other initiates traipsing through here complaining about ranks and special favors. I have enough on my plate without having to deal with whiny initiates.”

“I promise.” I mean it. Indie deserves to become Dauntless more than anyone else in that class and I will not allow salacious rumors to stand in her way. There’s more than enough animosity between the transfers right now. Accusations of favoritism will only make that worse.

“Don’t forget about your meeting with Jeanine tonight.” He says it like it’s a polite reminder, but I see the dismissal for what it is. “She has a…special assignment for you.”

“Yes, sir.” I respond and nod like a good little soldier, rising from my seat to escape when he calls me back.

“Oh, and Eric?”

“Yes?”

“Your duty is to this faction above all else. I will not have some Amity transfer interefere with our plans.” I clench my fists, but I am smart enough to keep my wits and make no move to strike him.

“Of course, sir.”

“That is all. You may return to your girlfriend.”

* * *

_Indie Jagger_

* * *

“We need to talk.” I wince at the choice of words, knowing nothing good can come from a statement like that.

“That doesn’t sound good.” I try to keep my voice light and casual, but it just sounds small. He shoots me a reassuring smile and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. I let him take my hand in his own, deciding that I will take all I can get if he is about to end this before it’s even begun.

“It isn’t what you think, I promise.” I’m not quite sure how to take that, so I stay quiet and listen to him speak. “Max has advised me that we should keep this quiet until after your initiation is complete and I agree.” I nod, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “But, we haven’t actually had a chance to talk about what exactly ‘this’ is.”

“Do we need to label it?”

“No, but I think it would be best if we at least discussed it.” I smile and decide to channel Christina’s Candor ways and just speak the truth, no filter.

“I want to be with you, and only you. Not because I think being with you will improve my rank or give me special privileges, but because I feel good when I’m with you.”

“Do you feel good when you’re with Bud?” He tries his best to appear neutral when he asks about the tattoo artist, but I can all but taste the bitterness on his tongue.

“I feel good about the fact that I have found a friend in my new faction who came from my old. I feel good to have someone else in this place looking out for me, even going so far as to assure the guy I like that there’s nothing going on between us. I feel good when I’m with Bud in the same way that I feel good with Will or Uriah. The sort of good I feel when I’m with you is completely different.”

“I feel good with you, too.” He confesses as a blush blooms across his cheeks and I smirk at his visible discomfort. “More than I should, I think.”

“Is there anyone else you feel good with that I need to worry about?”

“There's nobody but you. Never has been, never will be.” I can’t stop the wide grin from breaking across my face and I crawl forward to kiss his cheek.

“Then we’re together, whatever that means.”

He gently shuffles up the bed to where I sit and leans in until I meet him halfway, tangling a hand in his hair as I pull him close. An arm wraps around my back to pull me into his lap as he kisses me harder, tracing his tongue against my closed lips until I grant him access. I scratch my nails across the shaved part of his scalp, garnering quiet little moans from us both as a raging fire rips through my veins. Quickly I realize I’ll never get enough of this, of him. It’s an all-consuming feeling I’ve never felt before, only heard about in whispered conversations among older girls and the pages of forbidden books. I’m not scared to feel this way, even though I should be.

He pulls back to suck in some air before trailing his lips across my jaw and down to my rapidly thumping pulse. Softly he sucks on the skin there, biting gently when I whine lowly in the back of my throat at the feeling. A hand trails up my back to tangle in my hair so that he can shift my head whichever way he wants it.

I’ve never done anything like this before. There certainly wasn’t a lack of opportunity in Amity for this to happen, nor any sense of discouragement from my mother or the rest of the faction. I knew plenty of attractive boys, many of whom had expressed an interest in being with me like this. I came close, once or twice, but I always put a stop to it before anything could even begin. I was hesitant back then, for so many reasons. The empty feeling in my chest whenever I remembered the way my father disappeared so suddenly from my life. The despair that took my mother from me, the hurt that lingered even after she returned. The knowledge that I was unlikely to remain in Amity and how foolish it would be to start something with an expiration date. 

Even now there are so many reasons why we shouldn’t be doing this. If anyone were to find out of our relationship before initiation ends the legitimacy of my rank would be called into question and those sorts of accusations tend to stick around. My divergence makes me dangerous to the faction leaders and a threat to be eliminated, a task I fear would fall into Eric’s lap. I fear the reactions of my friends, the same people who will never see him as anything other than the cruel man who tormented them from the moment they jumped out of a moving train. If I were to look at the situation like an Erudite, I could see that there is no logical way for this relationship to continue.

Good thing I’m not Erudite, then.

“Hang on.” I gasp, pushing him off me even as my lusting heart protests the motion. “I want…need to take this slow. I don’t want to go too fast.”

“There’s no rush.” His voice is intoxicatingly raspy and deep, but there is no hesitation in his reply. He has an arm wrapped around my waist to anchor me to him in some way and I’m so distracted I almost miss what he says. “For anything. We have all the time in the world.”

“If I make it to the end of initiation.”

“You will, I know you will.”

“Because you won't let me get cut?”

“Because you won't let yourself get cut.” He corrects with a stern expression, but the effect is ruined by the way he taps my nose like I’m a small child. “No special privileges, remember?”

“What makes you so certain that I’ll make it?”

“The only person whose average time beats yours is the Stiff, but your times are mere seconds apart. You kicked ass during the first stage, you kicked ass during the second, and I have no reason to suspect you’ll do anything but the same during the third. You were made for Dauntless. I see it in the way you fight your opponent, I see it in the way you face your sims, and I see in the way you carry yourself around this compound. You and I, we’ve got a lot of years ahead of us in this place.”

“I’m afraid those years will have to wait.” A voice startles the both of us from the doorway, revealing the pink-haired nurse who kicked out my friends earlier. She grins at our proximity, but it fades as she shoots Eric a pointed look of disapproval. “She’s supposed to be resting, you know.”

“She’s in a bed, isn’t she?” He retorts without missing a beat and she rolls her eyes, but they’re warm when they look at me.

“The more you rest the better you’ll feel.” She pulls out a syringe containing a light blue liquid, the unfamiliarity with which fills me with apprehension. Then again, the serums with which I am familiar have yet to do me any good. “Then you can go do that in your own place.”

“What is that?”

“Sleep serum. If you’re anything like every other Dauntless that works through this door, you’re going to need a little help with resting. It’ll knock you out for a few hours so we can speed up your recovery process. Totally harmless, I promise.” I must not look convinced because Eric wordlessly plucks the syringe out of her hand and brushes aside my hair. He rubs a thumb across the spot on my neck where he injected the simulation serum just hours previously before he injects the sleep serum. I wince at the pinch of the needle, but I feel myself calming before he’s even pulled it out.

“Stay with me?” I murmur, my voice gone quiet as I feel myself fading.

“I have to go to a meeting.” He looks regretful as he says it and I feel bad for even asking him to stay. The disappointment must be palpable because he’s quick to add, “but I’ll be here when you’re awake.”

“You better be.” I order, but the effect is ruined by my slurred speech. His mouth curls up into a grin and it’s the last thing I see as my head hits the pillow.

* * *

_Tris Prior_

* * *

I can’t sleep.

The dormitory is silent as everyone else snoozes peacefully in their bunks. Resenting my jump to first rank must have drained all of their energy. The tidal wave of emotion I’ve tried to suppress all day has unleashed itself upon my mind so that no matter how much I try to go to sleep my mind will not quiet.

Relief. I remind myself that Indie is recovering and she will be given a fair chance to stay here. I feel a sacred sort of bond to her, and not just because we come from factions similar in nature. She is a great friend and if we both survive initiation I’d like to keep her by my side.

Terror. I am petrified that I will be found out. Each morning I wake scared, convinced that today’s the day the wrong person is going to figure me out. Eric has been watching our sims more often and I’m convinced he’s just waiting for the right time to strike. I’ve been able to hide my divergence much better since I broke the glass, but I still struggle with my strategy. I remind myself during each simulation to think like a Dauntless, but I don't truly know how they think. I want to ask Four for help, to show me, but I do not dare. 

Fear. I worry that Peter is going to kill me in my sleep. We all know what he did to Edward, and he hadn’t been actively antagonizing the former Erudite since our first day. I am grateful that Indie is tucked safely away in the infirmary out of Peter’s grasp. I took her advice and stuck close to Christina and Will, but we all know that there is only so much they can do. I cannot rely on my friends to protect me from everything and I know that Peter is no exception.

I rise from my bed in the hopes that a drink of water will be enough to calm my nerves. I stumble down the hall in the dark, using the wall to guide the way as my eyes adjust to the little blue lights. I hear voices as soon as I reach the water fountain, coming from the other end of the hall. I don't even think as I make my way closer to them, relying on the dark to conceal me. 

"We haven't seen any signs yet." Eric. I would know his voice anywhere. What sort of signs is he looking for?

"I'm not surprised, it's still early." A woman's voice replies, her clinical tone familiar to my ears. I know her, somehow, but from where I cannot yet discern. "The first stage of training reveals nothing as it has no effect on combat skills. Stage two can show glimpses, but nothing concrete. You will need to review the footage extensively in the next stage to be certain. I want actual Divergent rebels, Eric, not suspects." 

My blood turns to ice and for a moment the mere word is enough to stop my heart, but something about the words triggers recognition in my mind. I realize with a start that Jeanine Matthews is in the Dauntless compound, speaking to Eric about hunting Divergents. I press myself further into the wall behind me, wishing it would swallow me whole. 

Why are Eric and Jeanine discussing divergence? Do the other Dauntless leaders know that their youngest is conspiring with the leader of Erudite? If they didn’t, would they even care to know? I don’t know the answers to any of these questions, but I feel an inescapable sadness as my mind jumps to Indie. The others haven't noticed it, but I see the way she and Eric look at one another. I don't know for certain, but I'm confident that there's something going on between the two of them. If she knew what he was doing, I'm sure she would be horrified. Sometimes I look at Indie and wonder if she's like me. She is the only initiate to have her times even come close to mine and I just get the sense that she's hiding something. I wish there was a way to warn her without implicating myself in the process. I can only hope that Four has advised her on how to keep her secret, as he has me.

"Do not forget why we are doing this, Eric." Jeanine’s voice is soft, pitying, but there is an unspoken command lingering in her words. “Amelia had such potential. It’s a pity she wasn’t able to see past her own preconceived notions to see the truth.”

"I am not the one who needs reminding, Jeanine." Eric's voice is the coldest that I've ever heard it, but Jeanine seems unbothered. 

"As long as Max and Harrison deliver results, I do not care if they agree with us. Your first priority is finding the Divergents and bringing them to me. Everything else comes second, are we clear?" 

"Crystal."

"Wonderful. Now, there's something I need you to do for me…" I strain my ears, trying to catch the rest of their conversation, but their voices fade away with their retreating steps. 

I remain stuck against the wall as my brain works furiously to absorb every bit of information I’ve just heard. The Dauntless leaders are hunting for Divergents in partnership with the Erudite leadership. We will likely be revealed in the next stage and then brought to Jeanine for reasons I shudder to even consider.

For the first time since I got here, I wonder if I made a mistake in choosing to join Dauntless. Tori warned me that the leaders would find out about me if I came, and at this point it seems inevitable. I don’t know if I would have ever been truly safe in Abnegation, but I do know that I wouldn’t have been happy. I just hope that I can find a way to survive initiation, and beyond.

Then someone grabs me from behind. 


	20. Cowards Never Prosper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no shame so I would like to take this time to beg for reviews. Good, bad, whatever it doesn't matter so long as I get some sort of feedback on this chapter. Though if it's bad, please at least be constructive and tell me why.

I wake the next morning to the sound of Eric snoring softly at my side. His head is tucked against my thigh as he stretches across the bed from the chair beside my bed. That position can’t be comfortable, it’s nothing short of a miracle that he was able to sleep like that all night. Warmth blooms in my chest as I spy how peaceful he looks in his sleep. It makes him look years younger, innocent even, despite all the piercings.

My hand runs through his blonde hair and I begin to stroke the shaved edges until he starts to stir. His hand catches mine and his eyes fly open, confusion clouding his expression until he spies me. A soft smile so unlike the smirks I’m used to seeing from him spreads across his face. He pulls my hand to his mouth for a soft kiss that sends butterflies rocketing into my stomach and I feel myself melt into a puddle.

“Good morning.” I whisper, stroking the backs of his fingers as my hand remains encased in his own.

“Morning.” He murmurs, his morning voice rumbly and deep from disuse.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I feign casual, echoing his words from yesterday and he grins wide at the memory.

“What can I say? I was in the neighborhood.” The grin falters as he forces himself up into a sitting position, rolling his shoulders to work out some of the tension built up from his uncomfortable sleeping accommodations. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just woke up from the world’s longest nap.”

“Yeah, sleep serum can do that to you. How do you _really_ feel?”

“Much better, I promise. How was your meeting?”

“It was fine. Max was in a bit of a mood, but he got over it quick enough and we got everything done that we needed to.”

“Good, I’m glad you got a lot done. What time did you get back?”

“Oh, uh, not too late.” He looks away, staring at the machine displaying my vitals like it holds all the answers to every question in the universe. Red flags pop up in my mind like warning sirens, but I push them away as I decide to let this go for the time being. I don’t want to upset him over something so minor when this is still so new.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to sleep somewhere more comfortable, you could have just gone back to your apartment and popped back in the morning. I really wouldn’t have minded.”

“And give up the chance to wake up next to you? No way.” My heart swoops at the sentiment, even as the alarm bells continue to rage in the background. His expression soon turns solemn and I’m reminded bitterly that the real world still exists beyond the infirmary. “We should get you out of here and back to your friends. I’m sure they miss you and you should be cleared for training today.”

“Can’t we stay here forever?” I sound very much like a toddler as a slight whine creeps into my voice but I don’t care. I don’t actually want to stay in the infirmary for the rest of my life, but if it means staying with Eric I can make it work.

“I’m afraid not, but we only have to make it through one more stage and then you’ll be a member.” He reminds me, kissing my forehead as I pout. “Then we won’t have to hide anymore.”

“I’m not sure I can wait that long.” I grumble and he smirks, but there’s a salacious edge to it that sets the butterflies in my stomach all aflutter.

“I’ll make it worth your while.” He drops his voice down low and I blush bright red, not missing the suggestion in his tone. He chuckles at my scandalized reaction, chastely kissing my cheek before he makes his way to the door. “I’ll go grab the doctor.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later I am cleared for training and released from Doctor G’s care. In my first act of freedom I decide to seek out some food, so I walk down to the dining hall as Eric heads up to his office. I spy Christina and Will seated at a table near the wall as soon as I walk in, so deep in conversation they outright flinch when I sit beside them. Will’s expression turns uneasy and Christina winces, the guilt written clear across her face. It’s only then that I notice we are missing someone and a ball of dread settles in the pit of my stomach.

“Where’s Tris?” I silently remind myself to remain calm, but their expressions make me so anxious to know the answer I can hardly contain myself.

“We don’t know.” Will does his best to keep his voice even and composed, hoping that the feeling is contagious enough to spread to the two of us. “She was gone when we woke up.”

“Gone? Where would she have gone?” I demand, trying to not unleash the full extent of my panic on them. Tris does not have to keep us up to date on her whereabouts, nor are we her keepers. Even so I can’t help but fear the worst, what with her newly acquired rank and the knowledge of what happened to the last person who outranked Peter.

“Indie, we don’t even know if anything happened to her—”

“Of course something happened!” Christina bursts out, her expression reminding me very much of all those times my mother would lose track of me climbing the trees. “Tris wouldn’t just disappear like this! Especially not after what happened yesterday…”

“Will’s right, we don’t know that something is wrong.” I remind her, using her panic to force myself to become calm. “Let’s all just take a deep breath and—Tris!” I shout, unable to stop the outburst as I see her enter the dining hall.

Her whole body flinches at my outburst, lifting her head to look at us. We gasp at the horrid sight of an angry red bruise blooming across the expanse of her cheek. She limps just the slightest bit as she walks, and I can see her wincing with the effort every step takes. An oversized black jump with a faint grey stain on the shoulder cloaks her body, looking suspiciously identical to the one Four wore in the infirmary yesterday. She tugs at the sleeves anxiously like she wishes very much that the garment would swallow her whole. The sight of her palpable fear fills me with a rage so sudden and so intense I am frightened of myself.

Uriah moves down the table to where we are with Lynn and Marlene, leaving space for Tris between him and Will. She cringes as she lowers herself into the seat and Uriah slides a protective arm around her, but he pulls back at the obvious pain the motion inflicts. We stare at her in shocked silence, not sure where to begin. Will is the first to speak up, looking as if he might be ill from all the terrible possibilities running through his head.

“What happened to you?” Tris doesn’t answer us at first, focused on something behind me. I turn around, noticing for the first time with a sense of disdain that Peter sits at the table behind us. He is oblivious to the seven eyes focused on him, eating his toast as he speaks quietly with Molly. Drew is absent from this little pow wow, but I don’t care to know his whereabouts at the moment. What I do care about is the way that Tris clenches her hand into a fist at the mere sight of him as her expression turns dark.

“Peter, Drew, and…” She breaks off, choking back a sob as if the words alone are causing her pain, “and Al.”

We gasp in perfect unison. If the situation weren’t so awful and serious, it would be almost funny.

“Oh my God!” Christina exclaims, aghast. “ _Al?_ ”

“Are you sure?” Uriah asks her but she doesn’t respond, blinking back tears as she looks down to the table. I turn back to look at Peter, stomach turning at the way he smirks when he notices Tris. He looks so confident that he’ll get away with this and the sight makes all of the hatred I’ve had for him since we got here flare up in my gut. I make a move to rise but Christina grabs my arm, holding me in place.

“Tris, can I talk to you for a second?” Al appears behind Tris out of nowhere, his expression pleading. He places a hand on her shoulder and she startles so violently Uriah slaps it off, shooting a withering glare up at the former Candor. Al pays him no mind, focusing his attention solely on Tris. “Listen, I just want to say that I’m  _so_  sorry and I—I don’t know what’s  _wrong_  with me and I didn’t mean to, but can you please ever forgive me?”

“If you  _ever_  come near me again, I will kill you.” She speaks with such conviction I know that this is a promise she fully intends to keep. The others look stunned by her response but I’d always suspected Tris wasn’t the meek little Abnegation everyone else saw her as. “Stay away from me! You are a  _coward_ and you disgust me! I can’t even look at you!” Her voice cracks on her last sentence and Al’s face crumples in defeat, but I feel no sympathy for him after what he did. I am sure that not even my mother, the kindest and most forgiving Amity I know, could find it in her to feel any differently.

Before he can continue to stutter apologies that mean nothing the doors of the dining hall burst open, slamming violently against the walls. The harsh sound echoes all through the room as Eric storms in, the whole place falling silent as every eye turns to him. He ignores them all, striding over to where Peter sits with purposeful steps. Peter doesn’t flinch under the weight of Eric’s fury, but even he cannot conceal the terror in his eyes.

“Initiate!” Eric roars, startling Peter so much he drops his toast onto the floor. “Stand.”

Peter shoots up like a marionette on a string, moving not a single muscle as he stares straight ahead at the wall. He would have made an excellent soldier if he weren’t such a goddamn coward. Max glances over to the scene, feigning disinterest, but I can tell he’s keeping a close eye on Eric. His temper is an unstoppable force once it's set ablaze and everyone knows it. I would hate to be in Peter’s shoes right now, but not enough to muster up any sense of pity for him.

“Initiate, do you understand the meaning of cowardice?”

“Um,” Peter stutters, furiously racking his brain to try and think of a way out of this but we all know it’s in vain, “no?”

“That’s funny, because I think you understand the concept quite well since it seems to be the guiding force in how you choose to live your life.” The rest of Dauntless watches the scene with rapt attention, eager to see what Eric will do next. “Would you care to explain to me why your fellow initiate is in the infirmary right now?”

“I—I don’t know.” He stutters, averting his gaze as Christina snorts beside me. For a Candor transfer, he’s a bad liar.

“Initiate, this may not be Candor, but I know when you are lying. Try again.”

“He was beaten up, sir.”

“He was beaten up, you are correct. Would you care to share with the rest of the faction  _why_  he was beaten up?”

“I'd rather not, sir.”

“Then I will do it for you. Drew was beaten up last night, quite brutally, because he was caught trying to throw another initiate into the chasm. Something he was doing with you, as I understand it.” We look to Tris, sickened as the events of the last night become clearer to us all. Her eyes are filled to the brim with her tears, but she refuses to let them fall.

“He’s lying!” Peter cries out, but he cannot mask his wide-eyed terror at the prospect of the consequences that are sure to come to him.

“Well, then I suppose it’s a good thing we have plenty of cameras in this compound.” Eric spits the words out, looking far angrier than I’ve ever seen him. “As I also understand it, you touched your would-be victim inappropriately.”

“She wanted it.” He spits the words out, leering at Tris. Eric moves so quickly Peter doesn’t see it coming, clocking him in the jaw and sending him tumbling down. Peter cries out, clutching his face as he begs Eric to stop, but Eric does not relent. He rears his foot back and kicks once, twice, three times before yanking Peter back on his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“Women of Dauntless, please raise your hand if you have any interest in this creep molesting you.” Not a single woman raises her hand, but many begin to shout at Peter and call him names. Coward is the kindest among them. “Raise your hand if you think there is any bravery in attacking someone because they outrank you.” The dining hall erupts with even more noise then as members all around the room begin to shout at Peter, jeering and booing between insults. “I thought not. Drew has already told us everything, except for the identity of the other person who helped you. I want their name, now.”

“It was just the two of us.” He denies more believably this time and I’m puzzled by his reluctance to give up Al. Why are they protecting him? They certainly don’t care about him, so why let him get away with it while they take the fall?

“Peter, I would think you’d know by now to not lie to me. A third person is visible in the surveillance tapes and I want their identity _now_. I won’t ask you again.” Everyone waits with bated breath to see if Peter will fess up, but I turn my focus on Al.

“It was me.” He confesses, stepping forward. Eric doesn’t look surprised in the slightest and it strikes me that he likely already knew. “I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I was so _angry_ that she was beating me all of a sudden. She’s a little girl from Abnegation, but somehow she’s in first? How the hell is that fair? Then Peter came to me and offered me this chance and I…I hate myself, but I couldn’t say no. I wanted her to suffer for improving while I stayed at the bottom.”

If possible the noise in the dining hall grows tenfold and I feel the table vibrate beneath my hands from the force of their fury. Al winces at the wrath directed his way, but he doesn’t back down. If he could have been as brave all the time as he is acting right now, he might have been able to make it here. As it is, his rare moments of bravery seem to pop up at the wrong times.

“Dauntless!” Eric shouts, but he only manages to quiet the angry mob slightly. “Someone please share with our transfer initiates the first line of the Dauntless manifesto.”

“We believe that cowardice is to blame for the world's injustices.” Uriah recites without a moment’s hesitation, glaring pointedly in Peter and Al’s direction.

“Indeed, cowardice is to blame for this.” Eric’s voice turns deathly quiet then, ferocious even at such a low volume. I decide his controlled, quiet voice is much more chilling than his loud, angry voice. “There is no room for cowards here. I’m sure the factionless will welcome you with open arms.”

Without another word, he grabs both Peter and Al by the arm to haul them from the dining hall. The room breaks out into murmurs and I see Tris tuck herself into Uriah’s side as people turn to stare at our table. I catch Bud’s eye from across the room for a moment before I turn to Uriah.

“What’s going to happen to them?”

“They’ll leave for the factionless tonight with nothing but the clothes on their backs. In the meantime, while the leaders process the paperwork and update their files, they’ll be kept in holding cells in the basement. Don’t worry,” he adds, noticing the weary look on Tris's face, “they'll be heavily guarded.”

“I can’t believe Eric finally did something about Peter.” Christina sounds stunned and I can’t help the pinprick of annoyance I feel, even though I myself had almost identical thoughts once. “What do you think was different this time?”

“He needed proof.” I say, recalling the last time Peter pulled something like this and my conversation after with Eric. “Now he has it.”


	21. There’s Always A Flaw in the System

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this fic, let’s pretend that Tris did go to Erudite and saw Caleb but she got back before all the initiates finished going through Lauren’s fears. Also, this chapter. OH this chapter. It was a bit like pulling teeth to write it. I had a solid plan, but the words just weren’t coming and then I hated the plan and changed it around and I just…I hope it’s not a complete disaster. I tried. Please be merciful in your reviews if it’s complete garbage. Or don’t, live your dreams.

Four collects the remaining initiates soon after, leading us across the Pit and up into the glass ceiling above. We emerge in a room painted wall to wall with graffiti where Lauren waits with some of the Dauntless born, frowning in confusion as we file inside. She must take note of the absent faces because she turns to Four inquisitively.

“I think you’re missing a few initiates.” He smirks, like there’s anything funny about why we’re missing so many transfer initiates, and shakes his head in the negative.

“No, they’re all here.” Lauren looks like she wants to press the issue, but decides to drop the subject for the time being.

“Right. Today we’re going to teach you how to face your fears in a different kind of simulation. Your final test will happen in this room, but it won’t look like this the next time you’re up here. During stage two the computer took data on your fears and compiled them into a program unique to you. That program will present to you a series of challenges featuring your worst fears called your fear landscape. Some will be familiar to you, but others will be new. Unlike the sims you faced in stage two, you will be aware that your landscape isn’t real.”

Briefly I worry that I have lost my advantage now that everyone will be aware that they’re in a sim, but I banish this thought as soon as it pops into my head. If I am truly Dauntless then it won’t matter because I will make it in to Dauntless. No amount of advantages and privileges will be able to help me if I’m not supposed to be here.

“The number of fears you face will vary.” Four carries on, looking as if he struggling to not let his gaze stray to Tris. If we were actual friends, I would tease him about his attempts to be blasé. “The average is between twelve and fifteen, but some of you will have far more or far less. Your rank will be heavily determined by your time in the fear landscape. I’ve told you before that the third stage is concerned with mental preparedness. This is because you will need to control both your body and your emotions in order to succeed. Mastery of these both will allow you to keep a level head and move quickly through your fears. You’ll go through your landscape next week before the Dauntless leaders. They will evaluate your performance and factor our rankings into their final decision.”

“To move past each fear you must do one of two things: calm your heart rate so the system perceives that you are not afraid, or face your fears and force the sim to move on. You’ve already seen a good chunk of your fears in stage two; study them and consider what it would take to beat them. We’ll spend the next week running you through portions of your landscapes to practice. We expect you to use that time to develop a strategy that is both thoughtful and quick.” Lauren opens her mouth to continue but Molly cuts her off, pouting like a toddler who hasn’t gotten their way. The Dauntless born instructor looks affronted at the interruption, by a transfer no less, but Four looks simply amused by the offense.

“This doesn’t sound fair. What if someone has like twenty fears but another person only has three?” I snort, considering that Molly had never considered what was fair when it didn’t suit her. Four must have the same thought, as he is the first to respond, his expression icy as he gazes upon Peter’s comrade.

“Fair hasn’t really been an issue for you until now, Molly.” He snarls and I can feel my lips twitch up in a smirk as she flushes. “Judging by the company you keep, I doubt it’s even crossed your mind until it affected you.” To her credit, Molly doesn’t even flinch at the obvious insult. She stares back, defiant, even though it's plain to see that Four's implications are not lost on her. 

“As I recall, I was asleep last night when Peter, Drew, and Al left the dormitory.” Lauren raises a brow in surprise, intrigued to learn what she has missed, but remains silent and lets Four carry on.

“Were you aware of what your friends planned to do?”

“Not until after it was already done.” She shoots Tris a look I struggle to interpret. It looks like a cross between an apology and a threat, but Four must see something redeeming in it because he drops the issue.

“The amount of fears you have is less important than you think. You can have only three fears and struggle to get past each one while someone with twenty fears breezes right past you. It’s how you handle your fears that matters here, not how many.”

“Four’s right. At the end of my initiation I had nine fears, but I ranked higher than someone with only six.” I consider this, wondering if it’s possible that I’ve already seen all my fears in stage two. I doubt it, but stranger things have happened. “Which brings us to today. In my landscape I faced spiders, suffocation, walls closing in on me, getting thrown out of Dauntless, getting run over by a train, kidnapping by men without faces, uncontrollable bleeding, my father's death, and public humiliation. The computer will randomly select one of my fears for each of you to go through. Take this time to practice and get a feel for the landscape. Anything you learn today could be the difference between staying here or becoming factionless.”

Lauren lines us up and sends us through the landscape one at a time, letting the computer assign us our fears at random before she sends us in. Since we aren’t hooked up to the computer we can’t see the fears, only our peers’ reactions to them. Will goes first, brushing off invisible spiders before Uriah pushes back against invisible walls. I can't help the sadistic satisfaction I feel as Molly turns bright red facing some public humiliation. 

When it’s time for Tris to take her turn it isn’t immediately clear to me what fear she is facing. She stands still, looking trepidatious yet resolute as she waits for the fear to reveal itself. It’s only when I’ve begun to wonder if there’s a glitch in the program that she begins to thrash about. She screams and cries into the void, begging and pleading with invisible attackers and their invisible restraints. We all seem to realize as one that the program has selected the one fear that has already been realized for Tris. I feel ill as I watch her struggle with her attackers, unable to get out of her own mind. She's trapped in this horrible loop of flashback and landscape with no way out. 

“Turn it off!” I shout before my brain has even had the thought, glowering at our two instructors when they remain still. It would seem that their shock has stunned them into inaction, but this has gone on for long enough. “Turn it off, dammit!”

Lauren is the first to snap out of her trance, rushing over to the computer as Tris continues to steadily make her way into a full-fledged panic attack. Four doesn’t move a muscle, watching the scene with an impassive expression that aggravates me to no end. It isn’t until Tris falls still that his face shifts and he marches over to her with an infuriated look that spells trouble.

“Get up!” He shouts, startling us all. Four rarely shouts at us like this, but especially not at Tris. Gone is the image of the firm but fair instructor I had come to know. “That was pathetic! What the hell was that, initiate? You think that's how a real Dauntless would act?”

I’m relieved when Tris slaps him hard across the face, worried that I would have been the one to do it. She storms from the room, her whole body crackling with undiluted fury, as Four watches her go with a stunned expression that fails to mask the hurt in his eyes. I make a move to go after her but Uriah grabs my arm, holding me back. Not a word passes between us but I understand his belief that Tris needs space right now. I nod imperceptibly and stay put, scowling in Four's direction as Lauren calls me up for my turn. 

A strange sense of relief washes over me when I find myself tied to the train tracks. I’ve already seen my father’s death once before and I’m not eager to repeat the experience in front of so many people. I find the weak spots in the knots almost immediately and undo the ropes, rolling away from the path of the incoming train just in time. I drop from the tracks and plummet towards the earth as the lights come back on.

I’m surprised to find Eric standing amongst the initiates with a pleased sort of expression. I don’t know exactly when he came in, but if the look he shoots me is enough I know he was here long enough to see me do well. We stand together in the back at a respectable distance, watching Christina clutch at invisible hands wrapped around her throat. He glances over to the other initiates to be sure no one pays us any mind, slipping a folded piece of paper into my hands.

_Practice, 7:00, sim room._

I frown, not expecting him to begin my additional training quite so soon. I was released from the infirmary just this morning and I had hoped I would have an extra day or two to recover mentally. But, I suppose there is no time like the present—especially since I will face my landscape in a week. I nod, fake a smile, and watch as he grins at me before returning his attention to the other initiates.

His handwriting is neat, quite unlike my own messy scrawl. For the first time since I got here I wonder if this was not his faction of origin. Dauntless doesn’t strike me as the sort of place that puts a high value on developing good handwriting. I’d think that would be more of an Erudite, or even a Candor sort of quality.

I observe him out of the corner of my eye, trying to imagine him in black and white. Eric has never been dishonest with me, to my knowledge, but I just don’t picture him in Candor. I can’t see him in Erudite either, truth be told, but with the enormous collection of books in his apartment I suppose it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. Regardless, no matter where he came from, I’m glad he ended up here.

Four stays silent for the rest of training. Lauren reminds us to be back at eight the next morning once everyone has taken a turn, shooting Four a look ordering him to stay put. We file out of the room after that, each of the transfers including Molly sending one last scathing look in Four’s direction. We return to the dorms to find Tris curled up in bed facing away from us, her breathing too uneven to really be asleep but I decide to let her be for now.

“I can’t believe Al would do that.” Will whispers as the three of us pile onto his bed, the only one furthest from where Tris pretends to slumber. It strikes me then, glancing around the mostly empty dorm, how many people we've lost this initiation. We started off with ten, and now only five transfers remain. “I mean, I knew that he was struggling, but I _never_ thought—”

“None of us did.” I shake my head in an attempt to dispel these sad notions from my head. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, learning that maybe you can’t ever _really_ know a person. Not completely. “He was never going to make it here, and he knew it.”

“Al is weak.” Christina shrugs like it’s a given, but she looks tremendously sad as she says it out loud. “Peter saw that and knew he could use it to his advantage.”

“Do you think he actually got Dauntless on his aptitude test?” I voice the thoughts that have been roaming my head for a while, needing to talk about them with people who understand and likely wondered the same. “He had his moments, but I always pictured him doing better in Amity.”

“I know that his parents always admired the Dauntless. I guess he figured that if he wasn’t Candor enough to stay then he should go somewhere his parents could be proud of.”

“He made a mistake choosing Dauntless.” It is a terrible thought, but it feels so good to hear someone else say it too. “Now he’s going to pay for it.”

* * *

The Pit is alive with the sounds of the warrior faction as I cross through on my way to the infirmary. I still have some time left until dinner and with the rest of my friends using this free time to nap, I figured now would be a good time to pay Doctor G a visit. Warmth blooms in my chest as a group of children run by with multicolored hair, shouting and laughing with one another. If their clothes were red or yellow instead of black I could be back home. 

The good doctor had made me promise him that I would return before I began my extra training and it was a promise I intended to keep. I didn’t want to risk having an actual heart attack this time, after all. I would be lying if I said there wasn't a small part of me hoping he'd forbid starting the training so soon.

I understood the reasons why Eric wanted to start my training so soon. The final test was only a week away and I needed to ensure that I was solid by the time I hit my final landscape. Even so, I was still hesitant. The prospect of reliving my father's death over and over until I didn't have a meltdown wasn't enticing. Despite this, I intended to show up at seven on the dot fully cleared and ready to work. 

The same pink-haired nurse who kicked out Eric greets me with a wink when I enter the infirmary, telling me to take a seat. I sit beside a man with a miniature dagger stabbed through each nostril and a long beard dyed neon yellow. Though I’ve been in Dauntless for some time I still find myself taken aback at times by the wild appearance of its members. I wonder if that feeling will ever fade away.

If the man notices me watching him he doesn’t draw attention to it, reading the latest issue of the paper with a frown. I roll my eyes when I spy yet another article condemning the Abnegation, but I cannot read its contents from here. I imagine it suggests that the members use all the food they hoard to perform demonic rituals. I’d think a faction that prides itself on being the most intelligent would make better use of their time than creating fictitious stories.

Doctor G comes to collect me soon after, not even needing to ask why I’ve returned so soon. I notice the ring of purple around his eye has faded a bit, but it is still apparent that he was recently clocked. He checks my vitals, listens to my heartbeat, and asks so many questions about my stress level that I can feel it rising with each additional question. He takes meticulous notes and I can see that his handwriting is next, just like Eric. I would never pry, but I wonder to myself if they transferred from the same faction.

“I heard there are more transfer initiates joining the factionless tonight.” He tries to play casual, but I can sense an agenda within his words. “Were they friends of yours?”

“Just one,” I hesitate, before deciding to just lay it all out, “but not anymore.”

“Initiation can be a tremendously stressful time.” He continues, a strange mix of pity and concern melding together in his eyes as they meet my own. “If you or your friends ever need anyone to talk to, my door is always open.”

“Thank you, Doctor G, but that won't be necessary.” I rebuff him, gentle but firm as I struggle to not project all of my anger and confusion onto him. “Those boys were cowards, stressed or not. None of them deserved to be here.”

“Extreme stress when combined with extreme fear can make even the bravest man crumble.” He counters, but I can tell he’s not looking to pick a fight with me so I hold on to my emotions the best I can.

“Maybe he wasn’t really that brave to begin with.”

“Maybe.” He concedes, but the pity never leaves his gaze. It is as if he thinks I am a child, naïve enough to believe that it’s really that easy. Maybe I am, or maybe it is. “Even so, my offer still stands. I have seen too many promising initiates end up factionless, or worse. I'd rather not see you or any more of your friends among them.”

“Thank you, I'll keep that in mind and let them know.” He accepts this and drops the subject, taking the dismissal for what it is.

“Your lab work looks good, I have no reason for concern based on your physical examination, and you seem to be experiencing a normal amount of stress for a Dauntless initiate. I see no reason to forbid you from returning to your simulation this evening. Please say hello to Eric for me, and tell him my eye is healing quite nicely.”

“I will, I promise. Sorry about him.” I'm halfway to the door when I stop myself, turning back around as the words fly out of my mouth before I can consider them. “Do you…well, do you have any suggestions for how I can face this particular fear? I’m sure it’s going to come up in my landscape, and I’m not sure if it will be better or worse knowing that it’s not real.”

“I haven’t gone through my fear landscape in a very long time, but I do remember facing quite a few fears that were extremely difficult. I know this won’t help you during the sim, but I found that finding a flaw in the landscape helped me snap out of it.”

“A flaw? What do you mean?”

“Yes. There’s always some sort of detail that just doesn’t add up in the scene. For instance, my wife has a tattoo of the sun on her wrist. When she shows up in my landscape that tattoo is gone. If it ever starts to feel too real, I look for a flaw and I can usually snap myself out of it.”

“Thank you, Doctor G.”

“You’re welcome, Indie. Just remember: there’s always a flaw in the system.”

 


	22. The Time Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up that Indie begins her extra training in this chapter so we’ll be revisiting the sim involving her father’s death. The book Indie finds called “The Time Machine” is by H.G. Wells and it was published in 1895. My grandfather had a first edition copy that he always had on his bookshelf and so when I was trying to think of a book, that’s the first one that popped into mind. It felt cheesy to do a well-known book (e.g. Charles Dickens or Shakespeare) but I wanted it to be a real, old book that might have actually stuck around to the Divergent years. Reviews make my life complete so if you enjoy this chapter please leave a review :)

_‘There’s always a flaw in the system.’_ I repeat the words to myself over and over like a prayer, or a well-crafted puzzle concealing a hidden meaning revealed only through repetition as I walk down to the dining hall. _‘There’s always a flaw in the system.’_

The phrase is innocent enough, but there is a dark undertone to them that hints to me Doctor G was referring not just to the simulations. I haven’t the faintest idea to what else he could be referring, nor why he would think to tell me of all people, but I can’t shake the feeling that there was something in his words that I was supposed to hear.

No matter the mystery meaning of the phrase, the advice is sound. I will need to concentrate on the sim tonight in order to find the single flaw that will pull me from its hypnotic clutches. When I was stuck inside yesterday everything felt so _real_ , even though deep down I knew that it was a false memory. Not even my divergence could help me determine truth from deception once I became trapped in the overwhelming horror of being forced to face the reality of my father’s final moments.

I worry that finding a flaw may be easier said than done, as I haven’t actually laid eyes upon my father since I was nine years old. Time has stolen precious memories from my mind and I fear that what I seek lies in the details. I am willing to try anything that may help me combat this fear, but I cannot begin to imagine what I need to find.

I remember general ideas of my father; ones that not even the passage of time can rob of me. He kept his hair nearly as long as mine, a wild mane of sandy brown locks that lightened with every harvest. His beard was another story; neat and trimmed like a good Erudite son. The man was Amity through and through, but there were small quirks picked up during his time in Erudite that he just couldn’t seem to shake off. I could always look to his hand and find his wedding ring, even out in the middle of the fields during harvest season because he couldn’t bear to be apart from my mother in some way. It often returned covered in muck, but he’d run it under the tap and slip it back on like nothing. My mother always teased him about how dirty and faded it was, but the fond smile that stretched across her face whenever she caught a glimpse of it revealed her true feelings on the matter. He had no obvious marks like the sun tattoo on Doctor G’s wife, but he did have a very distinct cluster of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He would return from a day in the fields sunburnt to a crisp, but that was the only place that ever freckled. I was so fascinated with them as a child that any time I was in his lap I would create images in them like a game of connect the dot.

These are the memories I consider when I remember my father. In a way, they are all that I have left of him. He left behind no letters, no pictures, so I’ve forgotten how he wrote and every small detail of how he looked. All of his belongings were either sold, returned to his parents in Erudite, or tucked away into storage. I’ve even forgotten the sound of his voice, but I can’t ever forgot the way it made me feel so warm and safe inside. The knowledge that all I have left of my father is his beard, ring, and freckles fills me with an incredible sadness that nearly takes my breath away.

“There you are!” I startle at the sound of Eric’s voice, yanking me from my melancholy thoughts. I look around to see that we are blessedly alone in this hallway, but I know that in Dauntless you can never be too careful. I duck into the nearest alcove and he follows close behind, unruffled by my dreary mood. “I was just coming to look for you in the dorms; you’ll need Doctor G to clear you before we can start training tonight.”

“I’m one step ahead of you.” I try to shake off my mood with a small smile, but I’m certain it comes out more like a grimace. “I just came from the infirmary, he wanted me to tell you hello.”

“Hello, Doctor G.” He grins mischievously and I laugh, feeling myself grow lighter just being in his presence. “How do you feel about tonight?”

“Nervous.” I admit, deciding that I can worry about wanting to impress my hotshot boyfriend later. “I know I’ll take a sedative and you know what to look for to see if you need to pull me out, but…”

“But it’s still the worst moment of you life and you don’t want to face it over and over again.” He finishes for me and I’m relieved that he seems to understand. The last thing I want is for him to think I’m weak, but in this moment I have nothing to fear. “You’re not trying to become fearless, you’re learning to act in spite of your fear. Don’t ever forget that. You’re going to be just fine, Indie. After some practice you’ll breeze through this no problem, just like you do in every other sim.”

“But it’s not like every other sim.”

“No, it’s not.” He concedes, softening. “But it can be. You don’t have to give it any more power over you than any other sim.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so.” He waggles his eyebrows, trying to be cocky, and I can’t suppress a giggle at the sight. It’s rare to see Eric acting so silly, so like his age, and I decide I like this Eric more than I like Leader Eric and Trainer Eric. “How would you feel about going through your sim now?”

“Now? What about dinner?” I frown, not terribly keen on the idea of skipping a meal to go torture myself.

“We can grab dinner after, at my place.” He drops it in so casually I don’t even notice it at first, widening my eyes moments later.

“Oh.” I breathe, struggling to formulate an appropriate response. “Um, I…”

“Just to eat.” He clarifies, flushing red around the ears as our minds jump to the same thought. “I thought you might rather get it over with and then decompress in a quiet place away from everyone else than put it off.”

“That would be nice, actually.” I smile even as my heart thumps nervously in my chest. _You don’t need to be fearless, you just need to act it,_ I remind myself. “Let’s go.”

* * *

I walk as if under a spell when I enter my childhood home. I march through the front door on autopilot, seeing but not absorbing the familiar sights. Small droplets of water drip from the faucet over the basin, perpetually leaky from the day I was born. Copper wind chimes rattle against one another gently as a faint breeze travels through the room. Tendrils of light stream in through an open window, catching on the gauzy yellow fabrics hanging in the frame. The sight normally fills me with a lightness of heart, but now I feel nothing.

My feet continue forward, unbidden, and carry me down the hall in the direction of my parents’ bedroom. Everything looks just as it should, as if I never even left. A small part of me wonders how long it has been since I was here last. Weeks? Months? Years? I know not. What I do know is that even as I move forward, confident in my path, there is still some small part of me that pleads with me to turn around, to stop, but I find myself powerless to obey. I pause at the partially open door before pushing it all the way open, ice chilling my veins as I spy my father’s body hanging from the ceiling.

A strangled gasp tears from my throat as it all comes back to me and it feels as though the room around has begun to shrink. I stumble and fall to the floor, struggling to catch my breath as I fail to turn away from the gruesome sight before me. I feel as if my head is forced to remain on the sight by some unseen puppet master controlling my movements. I am powerless to escape this hell.

My stomach turns violently as a wave of nausea crashes over me and I retch, but nothing comes up. I try to push myself up so that I am not sick all over this floor but the thought prompts a spark of recognition in the depths of my mind. Sick. The infirmary, where Doctor G saw me nearly an hour previous. Look for a flaw.

I take a deep breath in a pitiful attempt to drum up some courage and force myself to look around, desperately seeking any sort of mismatched detail. My father looks the same in death as he did in life, right down to the patch of freckles across his nose. His eyes are still the same turquoise blue as my own, his beard is still neatly trimmed, and his hair is still long and mangy in the way that never failed to irritate my Erudite grandparents. I look to his left hand and it feels as though time stands still when I see what I’m looking for.

Or, rather, what I don’t see.

I push myself to my feet with the newfound strength that comes from knowing that this isn’t real and I hold the power here. I turn my back on my father, unsure of how to beat this particular fear and instead focus on calming my heart rate to stop the simulation. I take deep breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth, as I repeat my mantra over and over again.

_‘This isn’t real, this isn’t real,’_ I tell myself, shouting it as I focus my mind on memories of his ever-present wedding ring, _‘this isn’t real!’_

I can feel the moment when my heart rate lowers to an acceptable amount because the whole world around me seems to shift. The rom melts away before my eyes as the light darkens and I feel myself beginning to fade away. The last thing I see before I come to is a small buttercup clutched in my father’s hand, the yellow petals a stark contrast to the bluish tint of his skin.

The simulation is complete.

* * *

I open my eyes to find Eric is perfectly still in front of the computer. He doesn’t appear to have even noticed that I’m out of the sim yet as he stares, puzzled, at the blank screen before him. I clear my throat, sick of waiting, and his eyes snap up to meet my own.

“How did you do that?” He asks the question after a moment’s hesitation, curious not accusatory, but I still struggle with myself to remain calm. I quirk my brow, doing my best to play dumb, as I silently wonder how long that will keep working for me. The truth has to come out some time, but I’d like to hold off for as long as I can.

“How did I do what?”

“Calm yourself down so quickly. Last time you were in there I thought you actually had a heart attack, but this time you just…relaxed after hardly any time at all. You were in there for no more than five minutes.”

“I have no idea.” I shrug, unable to meet his gaze. I haven’t the faintest idea how I would begin to explain my newfound calm in that sim, nor do I wish to. I don’t need to do anything else to spark Eric’s suspicion. “Maybe that sedative is stronger than we thought.”

“Maybe.” He murmurs, conceding for now. I wonder how long that will last. He turns back to the screen for a long moment, as if it might hold all the answers he seeks, but a moment later he reverts back into trainer mode and his expression shifts to serious. “Do it again.”

Eric runs me through the simulation thrice more, lowering the dose of the sedative each time. I manage to snap out of the spell quicker and quicker every time, now that I know what I need to find. He grows more and more bewildered each time I finish, as if the sight before him is nearly incomprehensible. In the end he tells me that he’s proud of me and if I keep this up I should be able to run through without the sedative in no time at all. I flush, pleased by his praise, and don’t hold back as I lunge at him for a kiss. It’s clumsy and our noses knock into one another but we’re both so giddy we don’t even care.

We keep a respectable distance as we walk back to his apartment. The halls are empty save for the two of us with everyone else down at dinner, but we don’t want take any unnecessary risks. He kisses my cheek as soon as we’re inside and heads to the kitchen while pointing to the sofa. I ignore his direction and wander over to the bookshelf filled to capacity.

There are so many books on his shelves I don’t even know where to start. I spy training manuals, faction laws and ordinances, and a collection of city history texts on one shelf. A range of novels in varying states of wear and tear are on another and a cluster of old school books sit above. I pause as my eyes catch a particular title, pulling it from the bookshelf without a second thought.

I stare down at the book in awe with its spine hanging by a single thread to the stack of pages. I can’t fight a smile as I run my fingers over the rough cover, tracing the elaborate sketch of the sphinx. The yellowing pages are a sight as familiar to me as the apple orchards and great oak trees. Though my father retained little of his old Erudite ways, a love of books and knowledge never went away.

One book in particular, The Time Machine, was his absolute favorite. He read it so often his copy had to be held together by some twine once the binding gave out. To find the very same book in Eric’s apartment is unexpected, but no less comforting.

“How do you feel about soup?” He shouts from the kitchen, yanking me out of my own head. I carefully place the book back in its spot and make my way to the kitchen. I hold back a laugh as I spy him crouched down with his head deep in the refrigerator, oblivious to my presence.

“Depends on the kind.” I reply, startling him as he whips back around to face me. There is something so endearing about an off-kilter Eric that I can’t explain.

“Tomato?”

“Fine by me.” I shrug, watching as he pulls out a clear container from the back of the fridge. He pours the soup into a pot on the stove to warm it up, shooting me a curious look as I watch him.

"Something on your mind?"

"Were you a transfer?" He hesitates before turning to shoot me a bewildered look.

"What?"

"Your handwriting is so neat, way neater than mine." I explain, crossing the kitchen to stand beside him. "You have a ton of books on your shelves and it's clear you've read so many of them because most are falling apart. My dad transferred to Amity from Erudite, I know what an Erudite transfer looks like. So, I'll ask again: were you a transfer?"

"You sure you didn't get Erudite on that test?" He grumbles unhappily and I smile, victorious. 

"Nope, definitely Dauntless." I tell him, neglecting to add _and Amity_ to my reply. "I'm just observant."

"The Candor teach good handwriting, too, you know."

"I know, and I considered that, but I can’t see you in Candor. To be honest I can't really see you in Erudite either, but it felt like less of a stretch. Besides, the books are what confirmed it."

"Does it matter? If I came from Erudite?" He asks, spooning the soup into two bowls. He grabs two spoons out a drawer and walks to the table, expecting me to follow and I don't disappoint.

"Does it matter that I came from Amity?"

"No."

"Then no, it doesn't." I sit down across from him, the tension melting out of my body entirely as I take my first bite. I have no idea if he made this himself or if he stole it from the dining hall but, regardless, it is delicious. "Tell me more about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

"Well, you know about my parents and you've met my mother. Tell me about your family." He hesitates, discomfort crossing his features, and I instantly feel bad. "You don't have to, we can talk about something el—"

"My parents were both doctors. I had an older sister, she did a lot of research. She died when I was twelve.”

"Eric, I'm so—"

"Not your fault. Just the way it goes." I understand this. People die every day, sometimes by accident and sometimes not. It isn't because of anything we've necessarily done; it's just the way that it is. 

"How about hobbies? What did the Erudite dependents do when they weren't in school?"

"Study, read, learn more so that we can keep being smarter than every other faction." He smirks and I laugh, rolling my eyes. 

"Of course you did."

"How about the Amity? What did you do in your free time?"

"Well, we were encouraged to help out in the fields whenever we could. My father was in charge of the apple harvest, so I spent a lot of time in trees growing up. Other than that I would listen to music or draw, but I wasn't great."

"I don't believe that for a second."

"When I tried to draw a circle, it looked like a deformed egg."

"Ok, maybe not…"

"Were you sad to leave Erudite?" I blurt out the words before I can stop myself, not even sure where they came from. He pauses, giving me a long look before he answers. 

"No. I knew I wasn't smart enough to stick around."

"I don't believe that for a second." I echo his earlier statement, my voice gone soft. "You might be the smartest person I know."

"Then you haven't met many Erudite." He smirks and I welcome the opportunity to lighten the mood. "I wasn't sad to leave. I felt ready for choosing day when the time came."

"I was ready to go too." I admit. "I miss it, sometimes, but not enough to think I would have been happy if I’d stayed."

"Do you regret choosing Dauntless?"

"No. Even if I fail initiation and end up factionless, I wouldn't regret a second of my time here."

"That's not going to happen." His tone leaves no room for argument, but I can’t help but worry. "I won't let it."

“I thought you weren’t giving me any special favors.” I wink to let him know I’m teasing, but I continue before he can argue. “I think I might rank high enough to—”

A knock sounds at the door and I fall silent, pushing back from the table as I move myself out of sight. I don’t exactly want someone who shouldn’t to find me here. Eric heads for the door, putting up a mask of annoyance in the hope of hurrying along whomever is interrupting.

I can hear the tension in Four's voice and whatever he's here to say isn't good from the way Eric's face darkens. He turns to look at me as Four steps in, shooting me a look I cannot decipher. I frown, a feeling of dread growing in the pit of my stomach. 

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"There was a body found in the chasm. Apparently, Al managed to escape from custody and then threw himself in the chasm. He’s dead."


	23. The Way It Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you are disappointed that I killed Al even though he was getting kicked out, but I felt it was necessary because A) his usefulness as a character has run out, B) it still seems likely that he would have jumped into the chasm even if he’d been kicked out in the book because the guilt of what he did would still eat at him even in the factionless sector, and C) it is important to the overall plot of the fic. I am, however, happy to report that I nixed the whole funeral scene—especially Eric’s speech—because it’s bullshit and I hate it so much :) I’m sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted and the ending, but it had to happen and it will be resolved soon. Shoot me a review to tell me what you thought, just please don’t shoot me.

I’m out the door before my brain has even begun to process the news Four has just brought to us. I hear him and Eric call my name, bewilderment and a touch of caution coloring their tone, but I don’t stop. I sprint through the halls and down the stairs, racing toward the Pit as I look around wildly for any sign of a certain blonde-haired former Abnegation. I have no doubt that this sort of news spreads quickly through Dauntless and the last thing she needs is to see him like that.

There’s a large crowd already gathered near the chasm and apprehension grows as I hear grunts of exertion. I watch as two men haul his body out of the water, his body dropping onto the rough concrete like a sack of flour. His eyes are still open wide with fear and for the fifth time today I meet the lifeless gaze of a dead man. I gasp as my stomach churns dangerously and turn from the sight, willing myself not to be sick.

I spy a blonde ponytail making a beeline towards the crowd and I rush forward to stop her, but I am too late. I see the exact moment reality dawns on her as her face pales to a sickly shade of white. She stumbles backwards as if she’s just collided with an invisible wall, the guilt and horror written clear on her expression. Christina grabs her arm to keep her from falling and I rush to their side, but I know it’s of no use. I’m reminded of that first day when we jumped off the train and that Dauntless girl fell to her death.

_“Don't look,”_ I’d told her sister as I led her away from the edge, _“you don't want to see that.”_ I want to tell Tris to do the same, but the words just won’t come.

“He was going to end up factionless anyway.” Someone in the crowd murmurs, speaking to their friend with a bored expression. I hope that my time in Dauntless will not be colored by so many suicides that I become numb to them. “I’ll bet he pitched himself over, it’s a kinder fate.”

“Don’t be so cruel.” His friend snaps back, rightfully disgusted by his blasé tone. “He’s the fifth initiate to do this in two years, not to mention all the ones we’ve lost jumping onto the roof. Our initiates are dying and nobody is doing anything about it.”

“Well you’d better get used to it,” the first man retorts, as if they’re discussing the weather and not tragedy, “that’s just the way it goes here.”

Tris yanks her arm free from Christina’s grasp and turns on her heel, racing out of the Pit in the blink of an eye. I watch her go, a sense of helplessness dawning over me as Christine bursts into noisy tears at my side. Will pulls her into his arms and away from the mass of people, shooting me an imploring look to do the same. I watch, transfixed by the morbid image, as someone bends down to close Al’s eyes.

A wave of nausea crashes over me and I crouch down, clutching my head in shaking hands. The weight of every terrible thing that's happened since I walked into my aptitude test crashes down on me at once. I strangle a sob as my heart begins to race, certain that the next body in the chasm will be my own. When I close my eyes all I can see is Al, soaked and blue sprawled across the floor of the Pit.

I try to remember Al, my friend. The compassionate boy who stood up to Eric while Christina dangled over the chasm, the first of us to announce her sentence over. The gentle boy who conceded in fights against his friends because he was aghast at the thought of causing them physical harm. The thoughtful friend who helped to hide my injured fist from Tris, the one to rip the newspaper from Peter’s hands. The kindhearted boy who would have done so well if only he’d just chosen Amity.

That is the Al I want to remember.

I can’t bear to marry that version of him with the one who lies dead on the floor of the Pit. The boy who knew he’d made the wrong choice and fretted about his inevitable fate with the factionless. The boy whose fear so poisoned him he became susceptible to Peter’s manipulations and plots. The boy who was so far gone he tried to kill a friend in cold blood for improving as he continued to struggle. The pressure to be the bravest and the best in a faction of the bravest and the best ruined him. The knowledge that his mistake was likely going to cost him the only place he knew, and possibly even his life, changed him. He was never meant for this place and it is what destroyed him in the end.

“Come on.” Eric murmurs, appearing by my side out of nowhere. I can see Four behind him, looking around for Tris no doubt. I startle when Eric wraps an arm around my waist to pull me up, unbothered by my reaction. He leads me out of the cavernous space, his voice soft and soothing as he whispers in my ear. “Let's get you out of here. You don't need to see that.”

We somehow leave unnoticed by the crowd in the Pit, slipping into the empty halls. I don't argue with him, my mind ensconced in my own grief and dark thoughts. I come back to myself as he lowers me onto his sofa, dashing away to the kitchen. He returns with a glass full of amber brown liquid, a pungent smell that tells me it's full of booze.

I don't question him as I knock it back in one go, sputtering as it burns its way down my throat. A warm feeling spreads through my chest in its wake and my weary bones relax in response. He shoots me a dismal smile as he joins me, pulling me into his side with a soft kiss to my temple.

Neither of us utter a word, basking in the peaceful moment even if it is clouded by a terrible grief. He runs his fingers through my hair and my eyelids begin to droop at his ministrations. This day from start to finish has been nothing but exhausting and I'm sure I could sleep just like this.

I don't know how much time has passed, but when I open my eyes the sky is dark outside the windows. Eric is gone, but he's left a soft black blanket draped over my body. I stretch out along the length of the sofa and sit up, looking around his apartment curiously. I spy a clock in the kitchen and walk that way, dismayed to see that it is long past curfew. I may as well spend the night here and sneak back into the dorms come morning, if Eric will let me. There's a note stuck to the door and I recognize his handwriting in an instant.

_Indie,_

_I had to go take care of some things. You can stay for as long as you want, there's some food in the fridge if you get hungry. I'll be back soon._

_Eric_

I wonder for a split second what he might have needed to take care of and then the memory of earlier today crashes into me. I clutch the counter with shaky hands as I sway on my feet, tears beginning to fall before I can stop them.

We were friends. I will _never_ forgive him for what he did to Tris, but he was one of us. Doctor G's words resonate with me as I consider all the signs Al showed of his struggle. I saw the same in my mother, but I ignored them and wrote them off as nothing. I should have said something; maybe there is something we could have done to help him.

Yet, there is no guarantee it would have made a difference. Al never belonged in this faction and it was only a matter of time before he was gone one way or another. Maybe he really did jump to avoid being factionless, but something tells me that it was so much more than that.

I startle as a quiet ping emits from somewhere in the apartment. I notice Eric’s tablet sitting on the coffee table, the screen illuminated with an incoming message. I struggle with myself for a moment before I meander over, my curiosity winning out over my good judgment. A message from Jeanine flashes overtop the Dauntless logo and warning alarms begin to sound in my head at the sight.

_SOS_

There is nothing inherently sinister about this message, but I cannot suppress my own unease. I try to reassure myself and not presume the very worst, surely there is a reasonable explanation for this. There could be a security issue in Erudite and Eric might be the leader to contact in that situation. The message could have gone to all the leaders concerning an issue under Dauntless jurisdiction. The message might even have been sent to Eric in error, meant for another. Yet, I cannot shake the feeling that there is something deeper to this.

I hear voices outside the door and rush back to the sofa, sliding under the blanket and closing my eyes. I try to control my breathing as I strain my ears, recognizing Eric and Max’s voice immediately. I can’t hear everything they say, but the mention of Jeanine makes my blood run cold.

“Jeanine wants you on the train first thing tomorrow morning. You are to report to Erudite, and then to the factionless sector. We can’t afford for this to go public, you need to neutralize the source.”

“Yes, sir.” Eric’s response sounds sarcastic to my ears, but Max must not catch it because he doesn’t make a comment.

“Get some sleep, son. Remember, do not breathe a word of this to _anyone_.”

“Never, sir. I want her as far away from this as I can keep her.” The door opens a moment later and slams against the wall, causing Eric to curse as I pretend to startle awake at the noise. I whip around to look at him, trying my best to seem confused as I glance between him and the night sky.

“Where did you go?”

“I had to deliver Peter and Drew to the factionless.” I want to believe him, but I can’t shake the feeling that he isn’t telling me the whole truth. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“That's alright, I should get back to the dorms.” I make a move to stand up, not able to bring myself to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey, wait a minute, we should talk.” He is oblivious to my discomfort as he sits down beside me, apologetic. “I’m sorry about Al. You two were friends and I know you’re upset, despite what he did.”

“What’s going to happen to him?” I murmur, suspicious but unable to dampen my concern.

“Since he was neither an initiate nor a member of Dauntless at the time of his death there will not be a funeral.” I can’t say I’m surprised to hear this, though even after all that he did the thought of no funeral makes me sad. “They’ll burn his body and dispose of the ashes in the chasm.”

“Will someone tell his parents what happened?”

“He left his faction of birth, it is not customary.”

“They should still know that their son is dead.”

“Their son chose faction before blood. This won’t change anything.” It shouldn’t, but this bothers me more than anything and I can’t stop myself.

“What if it was me?” He stiffens at my side and the motion is like a blaring alarm siren, but I don’t let up. “What if it was my body you found at the bottom of the chasm? Would you tell my mother?”

“That’s different.” His voice is hard as he shifts away from me, withdrawing, but I continue to press the issue.

“Is it? We were both initiates. We were both transfers. We both put faction before blood when we left. What makes him so different from me?”

“You won’t end up at the bottom of the chasm.”

“I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you.” I retort, even as I hear the part of me still concerned with self-preservation screaming at me to shut the hell up. He shoots me a sharp look, feathers ruffled, raising a brow.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” I huff, annoyed, pushing myself up from the sofa as I stumble toward the door. The alcohol from earlier and my exhaustion have loosened my tongue. I need to get out of here before I say something that will get me killed.

“We’re not finished, come back here!” He orders, jumping up to rush after me. I stumble back as he steps in front of the door, crossing his arms as he shoots me his best instructor glare. “Tell me what you meant.”

“Nothing, I didn't mean anything by it.” I snap back at him, unconvincing to even my own ears. “I'm upset, I don't even know what I'm saying. I think I’d better go sleep in the dorms tonight.”

“Why say it if you didn't mean anything by it? Indie, we don't lie to each other. Tell me the truth.”

“Ha, that's rich!” I bark out at a laugh and I watch him flinch under my knowing gaze, but neither of us is willing to back down. “We don't lie, huh? Where were you the night I was in the infirmary, Eric? Where were you tonight? Why is Jeanine sending you messages at three o'clock in the morning?”

“I don't have to explain myself to you.” His gaze hardens, but it doesn’t fill me with the fear and desire to obey like it normally does. “I am your leader and you do not speak to me that way.”

“Really? That’s funny, because a second ago you were boyfriend. Or were you my instructor? You know, it’s getting really hard to tell the difference these days.”

“Indie, what’s gotten into you? Talk to me, please.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you! You sure as hell won’t explain yourself to me, why should I?”

“Dammit, Indie, tell me what you meant!”

“No! Now move, I want to leave!”

“I’m not letting you leave like this! Indie, you’re scaring me. Do I need to be concerned that the next body I find in the chasm is going to be yours?”

“Only if you're the one to put me there!” The moments the words are out I wish I could suck them back in. I’m no longer just flirting with death, I’ve just hurled myself right into its path.

“Indie, why would you think that I would— _no._ ” Eric drops his voice to a whisper as the realization strikes him, eyes gone comically wide. He opens his mouth to respond but stops, shaking his head. He moves out of the way, leaving me free to escape, but he refuses to meet my gaze.

“Eric, please, I—”

“You wanted to leave, so leave.” His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but from the way my heart clenches in devastation you’d think he was screaming.

I stare at him, helpless, but not another word passes between us. I drop my gaze and shuffle out the door like he said, numb. The sound of the door slamming shut behind me echoes through the hall and my heart, breaking the organ in half.

I know now, with a grim sense of certainty, my days are numbered.


	24. A Turn in the Tide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to tell y’all a little story real quick. Once upon a time there was a girl named ladyofsoleil. Ladyofsoleil was in her last semester of university and on top of that she attempted to balance heading up a major psych research study, an extracurricular course on data analysis, and preparations to enter “the real world” as a functional adult. So ladyofsoleil was forced to drop the ball somewhere and, unfortunately, that ball was her fanfic. But, not all hope was lost for ladyofsoleil graduates in just two short weeks (!!!!!!) and after should have a slightly more regular posting schedule. The end. I’m the worst, I know, and I’m so sorry for keeping y’all hanging but as the story above illustrates, it’s a bit of a busy time for me. I promise I will try to do better. I am happy to report that many of your questions will be answered in this chapter, and the next. Also, let’s pretend that when they practice their fear landscapes in this stage they’re just samples of the real one so they only face five fears and there’s no guarantee they’ll be the same during the test. And, as always, please tell me what you think.

_Indie Jagger_

_Present_

* * *

Two days have come and gone since Al jumped into the chasm, but somehow I am still alive. I haven’t seen Eric since he kicked me out of his apartment. He’s been out of the compound on some secret mission, likely the one I overheard when I was “asleep,” but I’m not a fool; his absence does not mean I am spared.

I float around the compound like a shell of a person, numb to all those around me. No one questions my mood since we are all still shaken by Al's death. I wouldn't dare tell them the truth even if they did ask; knowledge is not power in this instance and it would only put them in harm's way.

Four has taken over my additional sim training. He doesn't make a mention of how he knew to do so and I don't dare ask. Despite my melancholy, my time in the sim improves and I don’t need to be sedated beforehand. Though the sight of my father's body haunts my nightmares, it no longer petrifies me into action.

When I walk into the dining hall I am so lost in my own thoughts that I am oblivious to the buzz of nervous energy in the room. I come to an abrupt halt as my ears catch murmurs of Abnegation and war, a seed of dread blooming in the pit of my stomach. I spy my friends congregated at a table near the wall and hurry over, perturbed by the palpable tension in the hall.

“What’s going on?” Will and Christina share a long look before he turns to me, lowering his voice as he glances around so as to not be overheard—as if he isn’t about to tell me everything everyone else already seems to know.

“The Abnegation leaders tried to get the other factions to overthrow Max, Harrison, and Eric last night.” My jaw falls open at this revelation, lost for words. Abnegation? Trying to start a war with the Dauntless?

“ _What?_ ”

“There’s a little boy from the factionless sector who’s gone missing.” Christina explains, her voice uncharacteristically solemn as she abandons her oatmeal. “His mother went to the Abnegation for help. She claimed that she saw two men from Dauntless grab him and throw him into one of our tanks. Marcus Eaton petitioned the factions to give their consent to arrest the leaders.”

“Is this some sort of hoax? What would the Dauntless even want with some factionless child?”

“Lucky for us, the other factions felt the same way and refused. Jeanine Matthews sent a message to Max once the Abnegation left to warn them. Max and Harrison have been on the warpath all morning, they stormed out of here right before you came in.”

“Do you think the Abnegation believe her? Or is it a convenient excuse for them to get rid of the Dauntless leadership? It isn’t exactly a well kept secret that Marcus Eaton thinks our leaders are unsuited for their jobs.” Christina muses and I frown, unable to disagree and unsure of why I even feel the need to.

“I don't know what to think.” I tell her, heaving a sigh as I contemplate this tricky situation. “I've never had reason to suspect the Abnegation of being hungry for power. But, there's something about Marcus Eaton that I don't trust. I wouldn't say it's out of the question for him to see the potential advantages in this situation.”

“Jeanine said that he was extremely combative when he came to speak to her. Andrew Prior appeared to be more hesitant, but we all know he wouldn’t dare defy Marcus in front of the Erudite.”

“He might have just been hesitant because of Tris.” I nod in agreement with Christina as if that makes perfect sense, even as nothing in this situation adds up.

“Where is Tris anyway?” I look around for the former Abnegation, wanting to hear her thoughts on this whole thing. Come to think of it, Tris has been absent from quite a few meals in the past few days. So has Four.

“No idea, but she'll be here soon enough.” Christina shrugs, unperturbed by our friend's frequent absence and I’m grateful that she hasn’t seemed to notice it coinciding with Four’s disappearance. “I didn't know the faction leaders could overthrow the other leaders.”

“Only under extreme circumstances. The other factions must all agree the leaders pose a threat to their faction or the city if allowed to continue. They all have to consent to it, or else it's an act of war and they can be executed.”

“Has it ever happened before?”

“Years ago, but nothing came of it. Dauntless and Erudite wanted to overthrow the Abnegation leaders, I guess they thought they were giving themselves too much power and not enough to the other factions. Candor was all for it, but of course the Amity said no. Thing is, Dauntless and Erudite didn’t wait for the Amity to agree before they went to Abnegation. The other factions spared the Dauntless and Erudite leaders from execution, but they had to elect new leaders to appease the Abnegation.”

“How do you know all this?”

“My grandfather was a historian back in Erudite. He was just a kid when it happened, but he remembered it well. All of this tension between Abnegation and Erudite is nothing new.”

Now that Will mentions it, I can't think of a time when the Abnegation and Erudite were ever on good terms. Even as a child I can remember one Visiting Day where my father argued with his parents about the issue, a course of action I was later told to not mimic. I don't remember all the details, but I do remember my grandparents storming out of our home right before lunch. My mother told me it was because the other factions just don't understand why Amity refuses to pick sides.

“So what now? I doubt the Abnegation will let this go, especially if Marcus Eaton is leading the charge. No matter who is behind it, that kid is still missing.”

“They're out of options, unless they want to be in violation of the peace treaty. Max pulled some guards off the fence to look for the kid, but I doubt that will appease anyone in Abnegation.” I glance around the room to check if anyone is paying attention to us and lower my voice to a whisper.

“Do you think there is even a small chance that we had anything to do with that kid disappearing?”

“Honestly?” Will asks, his expression stricken. “I don't know. I'm not sure of anything these days.”

* * *

When Four calls my name I do not hear him, my mind on the missing factionless boy. I would like to say that I have enough confidence in my faction, leaders and members alike, to know they would never kidnap a child but I cannot. I would like to say I believe the Abnegation pursue this path for no duplicitous reasons but I cannot. I would like for so much to be different, but it is not and so I must face the truth of my reality.

The truth is that I am in a faction full of people capable of committing such an act without an ounce of remorse. The truth is that the Abnegation have always had the best intent, but Marcus has behaved in an untrustworthy matter for years and I do not trust his intent in this instance. The truth is my boyfriend has probably been rounding up Divergents in his free time and I am his next target.

I startle when Uriah nudges my shoulder, nodding to Four's exasperated expression. I stumble into the landscape room, leaning against the brick wall with a weary sigh. Four shoots me a sympathetic look but says nothing, typing codes on his computer. I close my eyes and wait for the landscape to take me, Four's final sentiment to be brave the last thing I hear.

I am strangely relieved to find myself in the rough waters of the Chasm, welcoming the opportunity to escape reality even if only for a short time. I allow myself to get caught up in the ferocious waves, tossed from side to side by the tide. I force my body to relax before I dive beneath the waves, swimming to the bottom just as the scene fades away into the next.

The rest of my sample landscape proceeds in the same manner as my emotional detachment spurs me on to improve my time as I race between scenes, defeating my fears in seconds instead of minutes. The sight of the little girl that might be the child Eric and I will never have can't even shake me as I channel all of my feelings into ramming my fist through that mirror.

I come to without even so much as a gasp, serene despite the harsh return to reality. Four doesn't speak, but the way he can't seem to stop himself from turning to look at me every few moments tells me he has something on his mind. After the fifth glance in half a minute I relent, turning to face him with tired eyes.

“Just say it.” I plead, my voice defeated even to my own ears.

“I don't know what you mean.” He tries to play dumb, but I have neither the patience nor the time to play this game.

“You want to say something but you don't know how I'll react. Which is understandable, since you can’t always predict people will react. Like when you accidentally tell someone your biggest secret and they kick you out before disappearing for two days! No warning, no word, they just…leave. People always leave.” My voice drops to a whisper at this last part before I promptly burst into tears, unable to stop myself even as I feel the absolute mortification growing to an almost unbearable amount.

I'm surprised when Four sinks down to the floor beside me before producing a handkerchief with delicate daisies painted in the corners from his pocket. The whole thing is so unexpected I let out a little watery chuckle, wiping my face the best I can. He rubs a hand over my back in a gentle motion, trying his best to sooth me but the sweetness of the gesture only serves to make me cry even harder.

“You're going to be just fine.” He promises, so confident I nearly believe him. “He'll be back soon and when he does the two of you can talk this out.” I'm not sure if it makes this better or worse that he knows precisely to whom I was referring in my little diatribe. I begin to cry even harder, not allowing myself to feel how hurt I was until now.

“He's going to kill me.” I whimper pitifully between sobs but I know he heard me from the way his face darkens in response.

“I won't let that happen.”

“You can't stop him.”

“I can try, I'm tougher than I look. Between the two of us we could definitely take him. I've done it before, it's not that hard.” An unladylike snort escapes me and I begin to calm despite the uncertainty of my future. I wipe the tears from my face as I feel my breathing begin to return to normal. “Indie, you can trust me, but I need you to be honest with me if I’m going to help you. What were your test results?”

“Dauntless…and Amity.”

“That's what I was afraid of.” He sounds exhausted when he says it and I feel bad for adding to his stress. “Listen, I've seen your simulations. You hide it well so all you need to do is keep your head down and think only with the part of your mind that's Dauntless. You've been here long enough to know how a Dauntless would act in a situation and that knowledge will only grow the longer you're here. You're going to be fine.” I don't bother to tell him that with Eric aware of my secret I won't last nearly that long, but I appreciate his attempts to convince me otherwise.

“Thank you, Four. Tris is lucky to have you.” He blushes a deep red, but he doesn't refute it.

“Eric is an idiot, but he'll figure that out soon enough.”

The door bangs open then and I nearly jump out of my skin, pulse hammering as Eric storms into the room. His expression is furious, eyes flashing dangerously, and I just know that this is it. Four seems to know this too, because he shifts his body as if to block me from view.

“Eric. Haven't seen you in a few days.”

“Leadership duties, had to leave the compound.” His words are innocent enough, but the way he says them sends a shiver up my shine. “I need to speak with your initiate here, she

all done?”

“That depends.” Four says, voice hard. It's the first time I've ever seen him outright defy Eric and I wish I could tell him I'm not worth it without drawing any more attention to myself. “What do you need her for?”

“I don't think that's any of your business. I am her leader, after all.”

“As you so often like to remind the initiates, they're not members of Dauntless yet. So they're not your responsibility, they're mine. It's my job to make sure they're safe.”

“It's your job to train them to be soldiers—something you would do well to remember.” Then, speaking to me for the first time since he walked in, he tells me, “Let's go, initiate.”

Four looks ready to fight him on this, but I will not be like Al. I will accept my fate and dutifully walk into its arms, no matter how much I wish I could run.

* * *

_Eric Coulter_

_Two Days Earlier_

* * *

“Gentlemen, welcome.” Jeanine purrs as we file into the lab, looking very much like the cat that ate the canary. “Tonight, you have the honor of witnessing history be made.”

Harrison rolls his eyes at her lofty declaration, but he doesn't say a contrary word. He was the most challenging to get on board, due not to sympathy for the Divergent but his distaste for Jeanine. We got him in the end with the promise that his interactions with the Erudite leader would be kept to a minimum.

My gaze wanders over to a motionless boy beyond the glass, his body drowning in the dreary blue hospital gown. He is connected to thick black wires coming at him from every angle that wrap around his tiny wrists like shackles. This must be the missing factionless boy. He looks familiar to me for reasons I cannot discern, but the familiarity fills me with a sense of discomfort and I must force myself to turn away from the sight. Harrison and Max are oblivious to my unease, listening intently to Jeanine's explanation of the demonstration we're about to see. I force myself to look interested as I know better than to appear anything but intensely interested, but I cannot stop myself from looking back to the boy.

The memory of Indie confessing her true self flashes in my mind, unbidden. I suspected from the start, no way could she be that Dauntless and still so Amity, but to have my worst fears confirmed was a bitter pill to swallow. I know that I should turn her in, it’s what Jeanine and Max would expect me to do; yet I can’t bring myself to say the words aloud. I might be disgusted by the monster she is but I won't—can't—be the one to turn her in.

“We’ve developed a serum that not even the Divergent will be able to resist.” Jeanine announces, pulling me from my musings. “We hope to have it ready in time for the coup, but the plan will proceed as is no matter.”

Indie will hate me when she learns what I have done. I tell myself that it doesn’t matter, I don’t care what she thinks of me, that the monsters lurking beneath the surface even us out in the end. The sentiment is still forced no matter how many times I say it.

“Stanley, if you'd please.” Stanley, a former colleague of my sister who'd supported her theory up until her death and who now cannot bear to look me in the eye, types a series of codes into the computer and the boy comes to life.

His eyes fly open and he rises from the ground, looking back at us with a blank stare. It is as if he senses a presence in our place but cannot register the sight before him. Stanley types more commands into the computer and he begins to walk around the glass box. His pace slowly increases until he's broken into a light jog as he moves from one end of the box to other. Max looks impressed, he always is by whatever the Erudite show him, but Harrison's apathy quickly sours Jeanine's glee.

“You can make them run, how groundbreaking.” He snarks as he turns to face the Erudite leader with a cold look. I can’t say that I’m much more impressed than he, but I don’t trust myself to say anything. “How is that supposed to help us?”

“This is merely a demonstration of the serum's potential.” She replies, equally cool in her demeanor. If they weren’t grown adults I imagine they’d be sticking their tongues out at one another. “Stanley, please show Harrison what we can do.”

Stanley hesitates, following orders only when Jeanine shoots him a sharp look. He types a new command into the computer, looking to Jeanine to approval before he inputs the code. The boy comes to a full body stop, sweeping his eyes over the room before he does as he's told. He begins to march from one end of the box to the other, moving his arms as if he holds a gun between them. Stanley begins to type another code but this time his hesitation gives him pause, even as Jeanine scowls at his reluctance.

“Ma'am, this isn't a good idea, it needs more—”

“Stanley, now.” Jeanine may have the highest IQ in Erudite, but her temper is much more renowned.

Stanley complies and the boy begins a new set of motions, shooting invisible targets all around the box. Max is in awe and even Harrison cracks a smile, but the tense set to Stanley’s shoulders is what keeps me on edge. I trust his reluctance far more than I trust Jeanine’s confidence. She turns to us, ready to gloat about her latest success, when I begin to see why Stanley was so apprehensive about this demonstration. The boy snaps out of the spell of the serum, panic crossing his expression before his face falls blank once more. He runs full-speed at the glass wall, over and over even as blood begins to pour down his face. Jeanine whips around as her lackeys scramble, furiously typing in codes to shut it down but it’s no use. He continues to ram himself headfirst into the wall, expression blank but there is a glint of determination in his eyes that cannot be missed. His vitals spike on the screen as an alarm sounds through the room then, with one final run at the wall, he crumbles in a heap of blood and bruises.

I rush forward before I can stop myself, all of the air stolen from my lungs as I see that his eyes are wide open in fear even as his body remains perfectly still. Ice flows through my veins as I meet his lifeless gaze, eyes the same shade of blue as Indie’s. For a brief moment my mind transforms the face before me into that of Indie and I choke back a sob as it switches back to the young boy. It is in this moment, standing before a dead child whose only crime was being born different, that I see I have made an enormous mistake in selecting my loyalties.

All this time I have justified my actions by reminding myself that the Divergents are monsters. It is the Divergents that stole my sister away from me, leaving behind a tidal wave of destruction and devastation in her wake. It is the Divergents who pose a threat to our city, refusing to conform to our system and compromising the peace. It is the Divergents who ruined the one woman I’ve ever felt anything real towards, the woman who I could very well see a future with. Now, as I look upon this innocent child tossed away like garbage, I see that _I_ am the monster.

I am the one who poses a threat to Indie, not the other way around. I am the one who stood by as _a child_ had his life forcibly ripped away from him by a deranged woman obsessed with gaining control over everyone around her. I am the one who participated in plans to sell out every member of my faction in exchange for fulfilling my own twisted revenge fantasy.

“Oh, well.” Jeanine shrugs, as if she’s discussing spilt milk and not the blood of an innocent child. “There’s always more subjects in the factionless.”

I may be a monster, but I can do better.


	25. The Truth Shall Set You Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to each and every person who left reviews on the last chapter, feedback is a crucial component of being a writer and I greatly appreciate the time you took to give thoughtful feedback. I couldn't help but want to post this chapter quickly, especially since I'm heading in to my final week of classes and I don't know what my schedule will be like. I hope you enjoy this chapter, please please let me know what you thought.

The corridors are silent, save for the sound of our footsteps as we walk side by side. In the quiet I ponder how I will meet my fate. A fall into the chasm seems most fitting, poetic even due to its appearance in my landscape. Nobody would question the body of another initiate floating down the current. Eric could snap my neck like a twig, but a dead initiate with a broken neck might be too suspicious for even him to cover up. Lethal dose seems like the cleanest option, minimal work and the evidence would be easy to dispose of. The euthanisation serum is reserved for executions of the worst sort of criminals, but I'm sure Eric could get his hands on it easily enough.

I expect him to take a right at the fork that will lead us to the chasm or his office, but instead we go left. I'm confused by the unexpected direction until I find myself standing before his door. He doesn't say a word as he lets us inside, ignoring me as he heads for the kitchen. I take a hesitant step inside and close the door behind me, acting on autopilot. I watch as he emerges with a whiskey in one hand and a water in the other. The water he sets down on the table, as if I'm not still stuck by the door, before he heads for the window.

I follow after a moment's hesitation, taking a cautious sniff of the water. I decide it's probably not poisoned and take a swig as I step up beside him, stifling a gasp. The view is breathtaking; you can see the whole city from up here. Everything from the scales on the Merciless Mart to the Eye of Erudite lies before us.

I feel a pang in my heart as my gaze wanders over the orchards of Amity. Right about now my mother should be in the kitchens, pulling out loaves of bread to cool before mealtime. I would be probably be working at her side if I had stayed. Instead I stand in the apartment of the man who is most likely to kill me, alone. Even with death looming over me like a dark cloud I do not regret leaving, though it doesn't quell the ache of being away.

"You and Four seemed pretty cozy in there." He breaks the silence, feigning casual curiosity even as I see his knuckles turn white. It amazes me that he wishes to spend our final moments together speaking of Four, but I don't interrupt. "Should I be worried?"

"No." I shoot him a sharp look despite my better judgment. I'm not sure why I still feel the need to comfort him when he's the one about to kill me. Old habits die hard, I suppose. "Where the hell have you been?"

"What were you two talking about? Must have been pretty important, thought I'd need to tear the two of you apart with a crowbar."

"He was explaining something I struggled with in my landscape, gave me some tips on how to overcome it. He was helping me out, that's it."

"Oh yeah? Why'd you ask him for help?"

"Because he's my instructor!"

"So am I."

"You've been gone for two days!"

"I'm back now. You didn't think to ask your boyfriend for help?"

"You're not my boyfriend."

That shuts him up real quick, mouth snapping closed as he whirls around to look at me. I swear I see a flash of hurt on his face but it's gone in the blink of an eye. An unreadable expression crosses his face at whatever he sees reflected on my own.

"What?" A mix of shock and hurt colors his tone, so unlike him. As much as the noise sends a ripple through my heart I can't bring myself to stop.

"The last time I saw you, you kicked me out of your apartment before disappearing for two days without a word! That’s generally a sign that the relationship is over."

"A relationship is over when _we_ say it's over and I don't recall either one of us saying we were done."

"That's because you didn't give me a chance to say anything!" I shout, patience worn thin by stress and sorrow. "You tossed me out like I meant nothing to you, like I was garbage! What else was I supposed to think?"

"I don’t exactly remember you fighting too hard to stick around!"

"What did you expect me to say? _'Hey, I know you're probably going to kill me, but we should really talk this out first!_ '" I don't even notice I'm crying until he brushes away a tear, but he pulls his hand back at the look on my face. "Look, if you're going to kill me please just get it over with."

"Stop saying that!" He thunders into the silent apartment and I'm startled by the ferocity of his objection. "I don't want to kill you!"

"But you have to." I spit the words out, surprising us both the venom between the lines. "It's your fucking job and we both know how much you love that. Don't be cruel, quit dragging it out!"

"Dammit, Indie, I don't want to kill you, I love you!" I recoil, as if he's struck me. I feel as if all the air has been sucked out from my lungs and I struggle to reply as the tears fall harder.

"Stop it." I whisper, shaking my head as if I can force out all the terrible thoughts. "You don't love me, don't say that. You don't know me; we don't know anything about each other, not really. You can't love someone you don't know."

"You know more about me than anyone in this whole place."

"Then that makes me very sad for you because I don't think I know you at all. I know that there's so much that you're keeping from me, so many secrets and lies. If you're not going to let me in and tell me the deep stuff, then we're not going to ever be anything more than jus—"

"Jeanine is going to invade Abnegation and overthrow the Council." I hear a sharp gasp and it takes me a moment to connect that the sound came from me. My mind goes blank as all the blood rushing through my veins turns to ice. Words fail me and all I can do is stare back at him, helpless. I almost miss what he says over the sound of my heartbeat thundering in my ears. “That deep enough for you?”

My mouth falls open to respond, but nothing comes out. I remind myself to blink and to breathe, basic functions frozen by shock. I can hear my breaths increase as my hands start to shake; I know Eric hears it too from the way his face pinches in alarm.

"What?" I finally manage in a strangled gasp, placing a hand over the furious drum beating in place of my heart. "Is this some kind of sick joke? Because this isn't funny! Tell me you're joking! Tell me this isn't true! Eric, tell me—"

"She's going to march into Abnegation with her little army and put a bullet between the eyes of every member on the council. Then she's going to hunt down every single Divergent in this city and see to it that they suffer a fate worse than death. This isn't a joke, this is a very real thing and it is going to happen."

"How do you know all this?" My voice is feeble, weary, for I already know the answer in my heart. The pleading look on Eric's face confirms my most terrible suspicions.

"Because I'm helping her do it." My eyes fall shut at his confession, as if this will help soften the blow. Tears stream down my face and I can't choke back a sob as I try to speak.

"How could you do this?"

"I don’t know!" He roars, but this time I do not flinch as I anticipate his ballistic response. He throws his glass of whiskey against the wall, watching as glass and liquid rain down on the floor. "I don't fucking know! I thought I knew, I thought I understood, I—I had my reasons, and then _you_ came along! You walked in here all perfect and good and kind and then you tell me what you are and I just—"

"Hey, slow down, you're not making any sense. What do I have to do with any of this?"

"Everything! How can you be so blind? I was fully prepared to sell out this faction and everyone in it until I met you! You ruined everything and I love you for it!"

"I don’t understand." I whisper, wiping away an errant tear as he stares back at me with the most utterly defeated expression. "How could you be ok with this, with any of this, before I came along?"

"It's not an excuse." His voice is quiet now, just above a whisper, but I do not have to strain to hear him. “I've always struggled with forgiveness, with letting things go. I suppose it's why I'm not in Amity, but I'm sure there are many more reasons for that. My sister died when I was thirteen, strangled by her boyfriend. He was openly Divergent, the only one in our faction, and he fled before justice could catch up to him. My sister was my best friend. When she died, nothing made sense anymore. I was vulnerable when Jeanine came to me, grieving and lost. It's not an excuse, but it's why she picked me. She knew I had an aptitude for Dauntless, it was just too easy for her to tell me what made sense. I believed her when she said that divergence was a disease that would wipe us all out if we couldn’t contain it. I was all too eager to help her rid this city of the monsters that killed my sister because all I could see was a chance for revenge.

"Then I met you and…and nothing made sense anymore. You’re not a monster, you’re an angel. I…I had my suspicions from the start, there was no way could you be that calm in sims even if you did come from Amity. But I ignored all the signs that I saw because I wanted to be with you, I just didn't want you to be one of them. I could pretend for as long as we kept lying to each other, but then you told me the truth and all my worst fears came true. I'm so sorry for the way that I acted. There's no excuse."

"I'm sorry about your sister." I mean it, too. Even if I hated him like I know I very well should, I'd still mean it. "I don't know what it feels like to have a sibling, but I know how it feels to have the people you love taken away from you. If someone had come to me with a target to blame for my father, then I'd probably do just about anything they wanted too. I understand that your reaction was compounded by the lies you'd been told by Jeanine. I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Probably not." I agree, a sad smile stretching across my face to let him know that doesn't change anything. "Where did you go, the night that I was in the infirmary?”

“I had a meeting with Jeanine. She was displeased that I hadn’t drawn up a list of Divergent initiates for her yet.”

“And after Al…when I was asleep?”

“I did actually bring Peter and Drew to the factionless.”

“I saw a message from Jeanine on your tablet, right before you got back. It didn’t say anything, just a simple SOS. What happened?”

“She summoned us to her lab for a demonstration. She’d made some progress on a serum she was developing and she thought she’d figured it out.”

“What sort of serum?” I ask, apprehensive to hear the answer.

“The sort of serum that not even you can fight.” A dark, faraway look flashes across his face and I feel a seed of dread beginning to bloom in the pit of my stomach. Even so, I must know everything he knows.

“What did this demonstration involve?”

"Jeanine had been developing this serum for quite a long time, but she lacked the sort of subjects she needed to test its effectiveness."

“She needed a Divergent subject.”

“Precisely. Somehow, she discovered that there was a child in the factionless sector who was just what she was looking for.”

“The missing factionless boy.” I gasp, my mind working at a frenzied pace as the dots begin to connect. “Did you take him? Are you one of the Dauntless soldiers his mother saw?”

“No!” He looks affronted, as if he hadn’t just told me that until recently he was on board with a plan to eradicate all Divergent. “Of course not. Jeanine wanted us to grab him but Max put his foot down, said that at that age children were still developing and he might not even _be_ Divergent. So, she had some of her lackeys dress up like us and go get him. That way, if anyone saw them, our faction would be blamed and no one would look at Jeanine.”

“But I thought it was Jeanine who warned you that the Abnegation were trying to get permission to invade?”

“She did, so that we could accuse the council of overstepping their bounds by planting falsehoods in the heads of the other faction leaders. Harrison was furious, but Max let it go since the Abnegation didn’t have any solid proof.”

“Except for the mother’s word.”

“Unfortunately, the testimony of a factionless woman means little in the courts of Candor.”

“What did she do to him?”

“She put him inside a glass box and attached him to a bunch of wires. Then she injected him with the serum and had him demonstrate a small range of motions. He could stand up, he could walk, and he could run all with the press of a few buttons. Harrison wasn’t impressed so she upped the ante, even though her scientists seemed weary of doing more. But, Jeanine is the leader because she has the highest IQ so thus she knows best.” His words are sarcastic, tinged with a darkness I only now understand. “He seemed fine at first, marching from one end to the other pretending to shoot at invisible targets. Then…then the monitors showed his heart rate starting to spike and he became more lucid, less controlled. One second he was awake and the next he lost it. He started running headfirst into the walls, over and over again until one hard hit put him down for good. He was dead instantly.”

I can’t stop the sob that falls from my mouth as I begin to cry anew, tears streaming down my face as my whole body begins to shake. Eric's arms are around me in an instant and I'm so distraught I don't even try to shake him off. I fall into him, letting him catch me as we slowly sink to the floor. The only relief I can find in this is that at least Eric had little to do with the atrocities of that boy’s ordeal.

“He had your eyes.” His voice is distant, numb, but he can’t keep the devastation off his face. “I looked into his eyes and suddenly all I could see was you in that glass box, dead because of a plan by a mad woman on a mission to wipe out an entire group of people just because they’re different. It’s pathetic and I’m ashamed, but it wasn’t until then that I could admit to myself that I was on the wrong side.”

“Is that everything? No more secrets?”

“Not quite. That night, once Jeanine dismissed us, I stuck around. I did a little digging in the archives, they haven’t changed the passcode since I was a teenager so it was easy enough to sneak in. There was something telling me that I needed to look into my sister. I guess I figured that if my devotion to Jeanine had stemmed from her death, then I ought to be sure I had all the facts. Amelia had also been studying divergence, but she had developed a theory opposite Jeanine’s. She believed that Divergents were genetically pure compared to the rest of us, and crucial to the foundation of our society. Indie, I think Jeanine may have been the one to murder my sister.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I pulled the reports on her death and nothing made sense. Her death was ruled a strangulation, but there were traces of euthanization serum in her blood. Why put in the effort of strangling someone if you’re just going to inject them with a death serum?”

“Because you’re trying to make it look like something it wasn’t.”

“Exactly. The only people with access to those sorts of serums are faction leaders and the scientists who produce them. Jeanine may be the smartest person in Erudite, but she is also the most calculating and insecure. I'm sure she felt that if my sister were to find a way to disprove her theory then she could kiss her dreams of taking over this city goodbye. It's the only thing that makes any sense based on the evidence. Jeanine had my sister killed to halt her research and pinned it on her openly Divergent boyfriend in the hopes of turning people against the Divergent and support her own research. Then she used me to influence the Dauntless leaders and ensure she always had a little lapdog at her beck and call willing to do whatever it took to get rid of her biggest threat—those she cannot understand.”

“Eric, I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I know it doesn’t make up for any of the horrible things that I’ve done, but I am so sorry. I’m sorry that I was so blind to follow her for as long as I did. I let myself be manipulated to the point where I no longer even needed to be manipulated. Amelia would be so ashamed of me if she were here.”

“I think she would be relieved that you saw your own folly before you did something truly unforgivable. I know I am.” His eyes grow misty as they meet mine and I feel his hand come up to rest on my cheek. I turn my head to kiss his palm, leaning my face into the warmth. For just a moment, wrapped up in the warmth of his touch and my unspoken forgiveness, I can forget the looming threat beyond the safety of his apartment. But, reality cannot wait for long.

"How does Jeanine think she is going to justify executing the council? Surely she doesn't think the other faction leaders will just step aside and let her take over?"

"She won't have to, not if she makes it look an attack by Divergent rebels."

"How does she think she’ll do that? Clearly that serum she’s been developing isn’t as effective as she thinks it is."

"She doesn’t need the serum when she can drug all of Dauntless with a mind control serum and set them loose on the Abnegation.”

“She can’t!” I gasp, my stomach swooping dangerously as my lunch threatens to make another appearance. The thought of everyone I know and love in this faction turned into weapons of mindless destruction is almost more than I can take. "Wait, what about the Divergent Dauntless? I’m sure I can’t be the only one in this faction and Jeanine would be a fool to think we don’t exist. We're able to resist serums and clearly she hasn’t found a way to overcome that."

"Easy, she'll arrest anyone who's still awake or shoot them on sight. They'll be scapegoats for the attack on Abnegation and convenient test subjects."

"We have to stop her. I don't care what it takes, we can't let her do this."

"I agree, but how?"

"I don't know, but we're going to need help and lots of it."

"Does anyone else know you're Divergent? Anyone that might be sympathetic enough to turn on their leaders?"

"Four." I say without hesitation, ignoring the exasperated look on Eric's face. "It's clear he's suspicious of leadership, so he'd have no problem turning against them. He knows I'm Divergent and he’s promised to protect me. Plus, it seems like he knows everyone in this compound. I'm sure he can think of a few people who would be willing to help us."

"Just one problem, he hates me."

"Which makes it even easier for him to believe that you were willing to go along with a genocide." I can't keep the sharpness out of my voice, but I try to soften my anger with a sad smile. "He knows you love me. I overheard him say it when I was in the hospital. It's why he let me leave with you today. He may not like you, but he can't deny your feelings for me. I'm sure he'd have no trouble believing you switched sides because of me."

"Finally believe it, do you?" He grins, warm and happy. "What changed your mind?"

"The fact that you changed yours."

"I had no choice, really. I want revenge for my sister, but nowhere near as much as I want to keep you safe."

* * *

 

Four reacts exactly as I expect. He lets Eric speak his piece without interruption, letting him lay it all out on the table without comment excluding the occasional look at me to gauge my reaction. He absorbs everything we tell him without judgment, without a word, his face betraying nothing. Then, without comment, he stands and punches Eric square in the face.

He rears his fist back to do more damage but I jump up between them, trapping his hand in mine as I force it back. Eric remains perfectly still as blood drips down his face, knowing he deserves that and so much more. Four glares fiercely in his direction, the first hint of emotion he’s shown since Eric started speaking, but he calms down the longer he stands there.

“Get it out of your system?”

“For now.” He quips, returning to his seat. He holds his hands up to indicate he is no longer a threat and Eric relaxes ever so slightly.

“Good. In the meantime, let’s figure out how we’re going to keep Jeanine from committing genocide.”

“Eric, tell me exactly what her plan is. I want it step by step, don’t leave any detail out.”

“After the final rankings are announced everyone will be injected with a long-range mind control serum disguised as a tracking device. It will be mandatory for every member, except leadership. Then at exactly five o’clock the serum will be activated from the control room here in Dauntless. Everyone who isn’t Divergent will head to the Pit to collect a weapon before boarding the train to Abnegation. Jeanine bribed the train driver to stop the train at Dauntless so everyone can board, but I’m sure she can be outbid if needed. Once in Abnegation they will round up everyone in the streets and execute every member of the Council, as well as anyone who attempts to get in their way. The Dauntless who are still awake will be shot on sight, or arrested to become test subjects in Jeanine’s lab. When everyone is gathered in Abnegation then Jeanine, Max, Harrison, and myself will arrive to round up any Divergent Dauntless who made it to Abnegation. Then we’ll place the whole of Abnegation under house arrest for supposedly harboring Divergent rebels in their faction. The arrested Divergents will then be returned to Erudite so that Jeanine can begin testing.”

“When will the serum arrive at Dauntless?”

“The morning of the final test, sometime between five and seven so it will look like a normal shipment of serums from Erudite.”

“Is there any chance for it to be destroyed en route?”

“No. Even if we found a way, they would just send more within the hour. She’s made more than enough to inject the whole city and still have some left over.”

“That rules out destroying it later.” Four murmurs as he drags a tired hand down his face, looking deep in thought. “Would there be a way to replace it?”

“With what?” I ask, trying to follow where he’s going with this.

“Anything, really. Peace serum, colored water, something harmless made to look like the serum.”

“It is the same color as peace serum, but there's no way to replace it all in time even if we were able to get past the guards. Max and Harrison are keeping the serum heavily guarded until it's time. We need something discrete, but effective.”

“What we need is help.” Four declares, though he looks weary of including more people in this discussion. “The three of us aren’t going to singlehandedly take down Jeanine, Max, Harrison, and anyone else who might be helping them. I have a few people in mind who would be sympathetic and able to assist. Eric, is there anyone you can think of who could help us?”

“I'm afraid the only people I can think of are already in this room. Until recently I was very much on the wrong side of this battle.”

“That’s to our benefit, for it means that they are unlikely to be on Max or Harrison’s radar as well. I’ll convince Zeke to throw a party tomorrow night and invite everyone that I tell him to. It’s the perfect cover; Zeke usually throws a party around this time during initiation anyway so it won’t raise any red flags in leadership. Eric, your presence might be suspect but I think your relationship with Indie could be explanation enough. Indie, which initiates do you think you can trust to help us with this? I’ll have Zeke invite them as well.”

“Tris, Uriah, Christina, Will, Marlene, and Lynn. I’d trust them with my life and I think they can be great assets in a fight if it comes to that.”

“That’s exactly who I was thinking of too.” He smiles and for the first time all night I begin to feel like there might be some hope for us yet. “We’ll come up with a better plan tomorrow night on how we’re going to take Jeanine and her lackeys down. We won’t let them get away with this.”


	26. Fight Fire with Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the wait on this chapter, but it’s a nice long one! Things are finally starting to come together and I think you guys are going to enjoy this. As always, please leave me a review to let me know what you think. I’m dying to know what you think is going to happen!

The mood is lighter than it’s been in days as we sit outside the landscape room awaiting our turn. Four and Tris appear to have gotten over their rift, if the longing looks and secret smiles I catch them sharing are anything to go by. Christina and Will have also grown closer as they sit too near one another to be purely platonic. Uriah and Marlene held hands on their way in, though they dropped them as soon as they spotted us. Even Molly seems to have found someone, a surly-looking Dauntless born named Jonas.

Christina and Will play some card game they found in one of the shops as Lynn and Marlene attempt to supervise. Uriah watches on in amusement while Tris and I struggle to follow the game. Despite the lightness in the air I cannot stop my mind from wandering to dark thoughts of our future. All last night I was plagued by the most horrible nightmares of all the worst-case scenarios. It grew to be so bad I almost sought refuge in Eric’s room before I decided against chancing a walk around the compound alone late at night.

I hardly slept a wink.

The end of initiation is approaching faster than I anticipated and thus so is the potential of genocide. Eric did his best to assure me, in the last few moments we had together before I needed to return to the dormitory, he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Even so, the death knell rings above my head.

If only there was a way for us go to Candor and present our case to Jack Kang. But, without irrefutable proof, it could be construed as an act of treason and our sentence would be death. Eric promised that if we couldn’t produce a plan that he would do whatever was necessary. Whether that meant to risk execution by going to Candor alone or to murder Jeanine, I know not. What I do know is that whatever path Eric deems necessary to stop Jeanine he will not travel down it alone.

A shout from Christina draws me back in time to see her pump her fist in the air, dancing around obnoxiously as Will rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance. We burst into laughter at the sight, cackling as Christina does a strange little shimmy run combination I know to be her victory dance. Uriah clears his throat once our laughter dies down, grinning lightly.

"While we're all still here, I want to invite you guys to a party my brother is throwing tonight. It's members only, but he's making an exception for us. It'll be fun, you'll get to see what you have to look forward to after initiation."

Oh boy, will we.

"Sounds like fun, we're in." Christina answers for us and I should be annoyed, but I know deep down I'd go along with it even if I didn't want to go. Lynn and Marlene also agree before filling us in on the sordid tales of party's past. I wait until the others are engrossed in a story about the time Zeke streaked through the Pit and smacked into Max before I sidle closer to Uriah, lowering my voice so as to not be overheard.

"Sounds like tonight will be fun." I keep my voice light, feigning casual on the off chance he doesn't know what's going on.

"I think it will be important for everyone to come." He replies, amusement coloring his tone. "It will be very…informative of what the future holds beyond initiation."

"If we have a future." I can't keep the distress from creeping into my voice and his face turns down in a solemn frown.

"We will. We'll make sure of it."

"I'm sure you think I'm pathetic for being so worried." I attempt a joke but he doesn’t budge, looking quite thoughtful as he responds.

"Indie, there are a lot of words I could use to describe you but pathetic could _never_ be one of them."

* * *

The party turns out to be a lot more fun than I thought it would be. There's music, dancing, food, and more types of alcohol than I thought existed. I steer clear of the booze, sticking to dancing with my friends on the makeshift dance floor. There's people packed into the apartment from wall to wall, making it difficult to see. I look around for Eric but I can't find him anywhere, something that shouldn’t be surprising with how many people are crowded into this apartment but does little to ease my nerves.

I'm beginning to think that he's not going to show up when there's a loud commotion at the door. The music comes to a screeching halt and all eyes turn to him, scowling menacingly at the gathered crowd. I meet Four's eyes across the room, a questioning look in my eyes, and he nods to assure me that this is part of some elaborate plan the two have worked out.

"We do have noise regulations in this compound, you know!" He thunders, looking angrier than I've ever seen him. Not even Al's acts of cowardice ever made him look this furious so I can't help but wonder if a small part of his act is genuine. "It is well past curfew and I see nearly every initiate is in here! Zeke, you know the rules."

"Sorry, Eric." Zeke shrugs, not looking all that sorry. "Everyone out!"

"Not you, initiates!" Eric thunders, stepping in front of us when we make a move to leave. "We'll be having a word."

We watch as everyone files out of the room, grumbling about “leader buzz kill” and how initiates always ruin everything. Zeke waits until only the people he wants remain before closing the door, grinning triumphantly at Four and Eric. He looks a bit like the cat that ate the canary and it occurs to me that maybe this wasn’t a plan Four and Eric concocted.

“Nice acting, man. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were actually angry.” Zeke compliments Eric, not a single trace of animosity between them despite the fact that I’m confident Zeke is well aware of why we’re all here tonight.

“Well, I did just come from a meeting with Erudite so only part of it was acting.” He rolls his eyes, exasperated, before looking around at the assembled group. “Is this everyone?”

I count about twenty of us remaining. There are members I know like Shauna, Bud, and Tori. A few more I don't know, but more than one face I recognize from capture the flag. Even the pink-haired nurse who cared for me during my time in the infirmary is here. The initiates are the only ones who look like they don't know what's going on, excluding Uriah and myself.

“Yes, this is everyone. Bray starts his shift in an hour so we had better get started if we don’t want to arouse any suspicion.” The man I presume to be Bray nods in reply from his perch next to the pink-haired nurse, their hands intertwined. Zeke takes a seat on the ground in front of where Shauna's perched on the couch. When he notices the initiates are still standing around he cracks a grin. “What, you weren't expecting a little clandestine meeting at your party?”

“Uriah,” Christina is the first to break the silence, a fact that should surprise no one, “what the hell is going on?”

“Take a seat, kids,” Zeke chirps, “we’ve got a revolution to plan.”

We do as he says and find seats around the room wherever we can. I slide into place beside Eric as Christina and Will shoot me bewildered looks. Tris is the only one of the transfers to not look surprised by my choice of seat, though I wouldn’t go so far as to say she’s pleased. Four takes the lead, standing before us like a messenger fearing he’s about to be shot.

“What I am about to say cannot leave this room. If you feel that you cannot partake in what we're proposing, then you may leave. However, know that I _will_ force a memory serum down your throat before you do. Secrecy is of the utmost importance and if you feel that you cannot be trusted, you should leave now.” No one makes a move to leave, intensely focused on what Four is about to say to them. Everyone’s expressions grow solemn and weary, even Zeke turns serious. “Last night, Eric came to me with some startling news. It isn't exactly a secret that we have never been friends, but I believe what he told me and I hope you will too.” Eric takes this as his cue and stands beside his tentative ally, looking once to me as he begins to speak.

“Jeanine Matthews has formed an alliance with Dauntless leadership to create a new government. In two days' time they will march into Abnegation and overthrow the Council.”

No one says a word as they attempt to process the bomb Eric has just unceremoniously dropped on them. It isn't the approach I'd have chosen, but I appreciate the time sensitive nature of this meeting. The only people who don't look surprised by this are Zeke and Uriah, but I’d suspected were already told by Four.

“After final rankings are announced, everyone will be injected with a tracking device. It is not a tracking device at all, but a long-range mind control serum. At five o'clock the next morning the leaders will activate the serum from the control room. You'll receive orders to go to the Pit to gather up weapons before boarding the train to Abnegation. You'll then be prompted to drag all the Abnegation from their homes and into the streets, no exceptions. Then, once everyone is accounted for, you will be forced to shoot dead every single member of the Council. Anyone who attempts to stand in your way will receive the same treatment. The leaders will then arrive to arrest the Divergent rebels harbored by Abnegation.”

This time the silence lasts for but a moment before the room seems to explode with protests.

“They can't do that!”

“I will _not_ be a murderer!”

“But, Divergents are a myth!”

“We have to stop them!”

“That is why we have gathered you here tonight.” Four silences the room, solemn. “We need your help if we're going to stop this before it happens.”

“But Divergents aren't real,” Will objects, looking bewildered, “they're just a myth.”

“No, they're not.” I say before I can stop myself, ignoring the look of censure Eric sends my way. There's no point in keeping secrets at this point. I turn to look Will in the eyes, pleading with him to believe me and to understand. “I'm Divergent.”

“So am I.” Tris says, sending me a reassuring nod. I'm not surprised to hear this, but I am surprised that she would admit it aloud.

“Me too.” Uriah raises his hand, winking in my direction. “There are more of us in Dauntless than you think.”

“Including me.” Four confesses and though I was unawre, I am not surprised.

“Jeanine taught you to believe them a myth and dismiss anyone who claimed to be one as mentally unstable.” Eric explains to Will, the only other ex-Erudite in the room to my knowledge. “Jeanine is terrified of Divergents. Not because they inherently pose a threat, but because she does not understand them. If she doesn’t understand them, then she can’t control them and anything Jeanine cannot control is a threat.”

“So, Michael Hartley,” Will is tentative, but I can tell he's confident enough in his assessment to push forward, “he was actually Divergent?”

“Yes.” Eric confirms after a moment’s hesitation, unable to repress the flash of pain across his face at the mention. “Michael was telling the truth.”

“I can understand why Jeanine would be afraid if he was the only one she knew.”

“Jeanine knew Michael was the real deal, which is why he made an excellent scapegoat.”

“So he didn't—”

“Kill my sister? No.” A quiet gasp from Christina seems to suck all the noise from the room as Eric reveals himself and his past to everyone. Four shoots me an inquiring look and I nod subtly. “Jeanine had my sister killed because she was working on a competing theory to Jeanine’s. Amelia believed that divergence was a solution, not a plague, and if she was able to prove that then Jeanine knew they would pose a threat to her plot for Erudite to gain control of this city. She pinned it on Michael because it would not only support her own theories on divergence, but she could use it to get me to do her bidding without question. I only recently found out on a trip to Erudite; I visited the archives after I began to have doubts about the validity of her mission.”

Christina and Will stare at Eric like they’ve never seen him before. I can’t blame them; the seemingly cruel domineering leader we knew in initiation is nothing like the eloquent leader with a tragic past who stands before us. Tris looks at me for a long time, searching for something in my face. She must find what she’s looking for because she turns back to Eric, an expression of utmost understanding on her face.

“What changed your mind?”

“I fell in love with a girl who was nothing like the monsters Jeanine had described to me. I couldn’t let anything happen to her.” Will is the first to turn to me, his face sporting a strange expression halfway between amusement and shock. Tris looks between Eric and I with a soft smile before her gaze falls on Four, blushing slightly as she discovers he was already looking to her. Christina frowns, turning her whole body to face me as if this could ever be a private conversation between just us two.

“How long?” Will nudges her and she immediately softens, leaning forward to grab my hand. “And why didn’t you tell us?”

“Since the day I ended up in the infirmary, officially, but we’d been dancing around it before then. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“I knew it!” Bud shouts, grinning sheepishly but completely unapologetic as he shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry, but I totally called that.”

“This is _so_ not the time.” Tori chastises him before turning her attention on Eric. “What about George? Were you the one who—”

“No.” Eric shook his head vehemently, looking positively ill at the thought. “I had no idea they even suspected him until after it already happened.”

“Do you know who turned him in?” There’s a familiar raw grief in Tori’s voice that I feel deep in my heart. The knowledge that my father’s death was by his own hand brings up many unanswered questions, but at least I know how it happened. I can’t imagine living my life not knowing what really happened to him.

“Nobody turned him in.” The blow is evident in the way Tori’s face falls and I am relieved to see Bud collect her hand in his own. “Jeanine noticed there was an error in his aptitude test and had Max look into it during stage two. I swear to you, I had nothing to do with what happened to George.”

“I…I believe you.” She breathes out after a tense moment of hesitance, blinking her tears away as we all politely pretend to not see them. “Jeanine had always been suspicious of George when we were kids, there was always something about him that was different but nobody could put their finger on it. I remember the way I felt when they fished his body out of the Chasm. If someone had come to me with someone to blame and a plan, I probably would have listened to whatever they told me too.”

“Just because he didn’t have anything to do with George doesn’t mean he doesn’t have blood on his hands!” I don’t recognize the man who speaks, a collection of piercings dotting the expanse of his forehead, but I decide I don’t like him already. “There were many others like George who disappeared in ‘ _accidents._ ’”

“Jeanine gave each of us a different role in the hunt for Divergents.” Eric is calm when he speaks, detached and clinical in tone but I can see the anguish in his eyes. “I was her scout; I was supposed to make a list of anyone who seemed suspicious and report to Max. He would review their aptitude test, watch their sims, and make a decision. Harrison…Harrison is the one who made people disappear. I have blood on my hands, you’re right, but I’m trying to do something about it.”

“Howie, it doesn’t matter.” Tori is quiet, but the intensity of her stare commands the attention the unknown man. “Jeanine is a cunning, cruel woman who saw a grieving young man as an opportunity. She preyed upon him in a moment of weakness and took advantage of his pain for her own means. Eric was deceived and he was used. It doesn’t matter what he did during his deception, it matters what he chooses to do now that he knows the truth.”

“Which is where all of you come in.” Four steers us back to the original intent of this meeting, his apprehension nearly palpable. “We need a plan, and we need one fast.”

“This serum, is there a way for us to grab it en route?” A man with a shock of blue hair and a minimalist wave tattooed on his shoulder asks.

“No, the serum will be heavily guarded. Even if we could find a way to steal it, Jeanine would just send more. She has more than enough to drug the whole city and still have some left over.”

“What if we switched it out for something else?” A woman I've seen fighting in the Pit before speaks up, her voice unexpectedly soft. I believe her name is Jo or some variation based on cheers she usually receives during fights. “Another serum, or something that would render it useless upon injection?”

“From the moment it leaves Erudite to the moment it's injected, it will be under protection. Even if we did find a way to get to it, it would take too long to replace all the vials.”

“Screw the serum, I say we take them out now.” The man seated beside Howie proposes, earning a few nods from some of the other members. “Round ‘em up and bring ‘em to Candor for trial. Let Kang deal with them.”

“That would be treason.” Will pipes up, reminding me of the last time we had this conversation. “All the other faction leaders have to agree to a faction leader's arrest, or else we'll all end up dead.”

“Rigby’s got the right idea. Seems like we'll all end up dead anyway so we might as well take them down with us.” Howie replies and a few chuckle at this, but Four looks unamused.

“Then what? What's to stop her lackeys from carrying on without her? We're trying to kill an ideology here, not the people who practice it.”

“What about a counter serum?” The pink-haired nurse proposes, breaking the tension. “Is there an antidote?”

“Yes, Max and Harrison ordered a large supply in the event that anyone is mistakenly injected.”

“Is it already in the compound?”

“Yes, in a supply closet up by the landscape room.”

“Is it being guarded?”

“No, but even if we did get it we couldn't exactly go around injecting everyone with it without drawing their attention.”

“Ok, I know this sounds crazy, but what if we…”

I tune out the other suggestions as my mind begins to wander to my own ideas. We can’t destroy the serum without attracting attention and we can’t stop a new shipment from coming in. We can’t switch out the vials for something harmless and we can’t run around injecting everyone with the antidote. We can…we can…we can accept that there’s nothing we can do and embrace our fate that half of us will become mindless murderers while the rest of us end up dead or worse.

I heave a sigh, frustrated with my lack of ingenuity, and let my gaze aimlessly wander about the room as I try to push my mind past the worst-case scenario. My eyes fall upon a loaf of bread lying out on the counter, heart clenching. It looks thick and hearty, much like the bread we eat with mealtimes in Amity, but the wheat is a shade lighter in color. I can’t help but think of my mother whenever I see a loaf of bread, most of my happy childhood memories accompanied by her baking. I imagine that at this hour she is attempting to catch a few hours of sleep before rising with the sun to begin a fresh batch of loaves for the day.

I was a rambunctious young child, such an obviously future Dauntless it’s astounding I never knew, so she made sure I always had a slice with every meal. I never questioned it until I grew older and learned about the worst kept secret in Amity. Each loaf of bread has enough peace serum baked into the dough to dose a dozen people. Johanna is always sure to offer an extra slice to the Dauntless and Erudite leaders when they come for a visit, they need it. Surely, other serums could be baked into bread as well…

“Bread.” I murmur, mostly to myself but everyone must hear me as they immediately stop talking. I can feel their bewildered gazes trained on me but I ignore them, having eyes only for Eric. “Is there a lethal dosage of the antidote?”

“No. There’s an ideal dosage, but any excess will remain in the bloodstream and multiply over time to increase immunity. Why?”

“The Amity bake peace serum into their bread. What if we slipped the antidote into the food? Then everyone would be immune and the serum would be useless. Even if we couldn’t find a way to stop their plan before they started, at least we’d know it wouldn’t work.”

“That’s…kind of brilliant.” Tori grins after a long moment, winking. “Are you sure you didn’t get Erudite on the aptitude test?”

“We can slip it into the ink we use for tattoos, too.” Bud points out and the man with the wave tattoo begins to grin, nodding enthusiastically.

“And in the water supply! Water purification rarely assigns more than one person to a shift, I’d have no problem spiking it without arousing suspicion.”

“I’m opening the kitchens tomorrow, I can put it in the food.” A purple-haired woman to my right tells us, smiling almost bashfully. “I’d need one of you in the control room to loop the cameras so it wasn’t recorded.”

“We can take care of that.” Four, Zeke, and Rigby all say at once.

“Quinn, the antidote has a chemical structure similar to truth serum.” Eric addresses the pink-haired nurse and I realize with a start that this is the nurse Bud hoped was working when I punched Peter. “Will it be absorbed into the bloodstream, or do we need to worry about it being digested and destroyed?”

“We only digest the serum used for the aptitude test. We inject truth serum and all others like it because they take effect faster, but they can be ingested and still make their way into the bloodstream relatively quickly. It will remain in the bloodstream for up to twenty-four hours, but if it multiplies once it hits the bloodstream like you’ve said then it should last for about a week.”

“Does the supply closet where they're storing the antidote have a lock?” Howie is polite and respectful when he speaks to Eric, a stark contrast to their last interaction.

“No. It's hidden behind a few empty boxes, but no one ever goes into that supply closet anyway. They didn’t put much effort into concealing it because they didn’t think anyone would go near it.”

“I can grab it tonight and distribute it to Bud, Tori, Genesis, and Alice. I’ll just need someone to loop the cameras in that hallway.”

“I can do that as soon as I get to work tonight.” Bray assures him.

“Give the largest portion to Genesis and Alice, not everyone will be getting a tattoo tomorrow but everyone will be eating and drinking.” Eric advises him and everyone nods in agreement. “There’s one last thing left to discuss. If we arrest Jeanine, Max, and Harrison it will be viewed as a hostile takeover and we'll be tried as traitors. In order to avoid that, we will need the support of the other faction leaders.”

“So let me get this straight.” Rigby begins, looking somehow simultaneously bewildered and amused with one single look. “We need the support of selfless do-gooders without a backbone, tree-hugging hippies who refuse to take a side, and the most honest faction who will probably run off and tattle on us to Jeanine or Max?”

“I know it sounds difficult—”

“Oh, it sounds impossible, but I'm willing to try it anyway. If we don't get their support, I can live with being a faction traitor. What I can't live with is letting them execute an entire faction under my nose without doing anything.”

“We won't let that happen.” Eric declares, his face hard. “If we get the backing of the other factions, we arrest them. If we don't, we take down as many leaders and conspirators as we can. Is everyone willing to do that?”

“We believe that sometimes you have to fight for peace.” Four quotes the manifesto, looking thoughtful. “I'm ready to fight.”

“So am I.” Zeke concurs and soon everyone in the room has echoed their consent. Tris shoots me an optimistic look and I can’t help but smile in response even as my nerves burn anxiously.

“Now we must decide who shall go to each faction. As a leader of Dauntless I am able to give my unilateral consent to the arrests of my fellow leaders and Jeanine.”

“Tris and I will go to Abnegation.” Four volunteers immediately, belatedly turning to Tris for her agreement. She nods, shooting him an amused look at his misstep. “Her father is on the Council and he will give us a fair shot to plead our case.”

“I’ll take Candor. I know my way around and I know how to avoid all of the security cameras that will warn them I’m there.” Christina turns to look at Alice, surprising everyone by the familiar way in which they interact. “You should come with me.”

“I suppose I do owe Uncle Jack a visit.” The two share a secret smile hinting at past history and former lives the rest of us would ever see. “Eric, he’s going to want some sort of proof before he gives his consent. Can you provide that?”

“I’ll get you what you need. Everyone who goes to a faction will receive the necessary materials to plead their case.”

“I’m going to Amity.” I see Eric raise an eyebrow but he does not voice an objection, hearing that there is no room for argument in my tone.

“I’ll go with her.” Bud and Uriah say at the same time, scowling at one another like two children fighting over the same toy. I roll my eyes and suppress a groan, wishing I could just go alone.

“I'm _from_ Amity.” Bud argues.

“I got Amity on my aptitude test.”

“No shit, really?”

“Yeah. It was a surprise, but I have always been kinder than most Dauntless and I—”

“I vote neither of you come with me.” I interrupt and they both pout at me petulantly.

“Uriah goes.” Eric says finally after a moment’s consideration. “Shauna, they’re going to need a distraction at the fence to conceal their arrival. Think you can provide that?”

“I’m sure I can cook up a little something.” She winks at us, grinning conspiratorially and I can’t help but smirk in response.

“Tori, do you still have contacts in Erudite?”

“Yes, Jeanine is not a popular woman these days.”

“Excellent. Would any of them be willing to step up to the plate and take over once Jeanine is out?”

“Oh I think quite a few of them could be willing and eager.”

“Contact them, tonight. Warn them to steer clear of Jeanine for the next few days, anyone involved will be arrested and taken to Candor. We’ll need them to gather as much evidence as they can get off of Jeanine’s computer while she’s in Dauntless. Think they’d be up to the task?”

“I have no doubt of it. When will she be out of the compound?”

“She’s supposed to be in Dauntless by four thirty so I imagine she’ll be gone by four o’clock. Even so, tell them to hold off until they’re absolutely certain she’s gone.”

“You got it. Will, do you know how to communicate directly to your sister's computer?”

“Sure do. She even gave me her access code on visitor’s day, just in case I ever needed anything.”

“Excellent, you’re with me.”

“The rest of us who stay behind will run interference. We’ll serve as alibis if anyone wonders where the others have gone. If you’re going to a faction you’ll need to slip out of the party by nine to make the nine-fifteen train. Rigby, you’re going to need loop the cameras up by the tracks from then until they get back.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your job is to convince the other leaders to give their consent to arresting Jeanine, Max, Harrison, and all of their conspirators. I’ll provide each of you with enough damning evidence to force their hands if need be. If they refuse, tell them that you will pursue this path no further and beg them to not say anything to the others. I doubt the Abnegation or Amity will be running off to Erudite any time soon, but Jack may require some more convincing. Be back by midnight and rejoin the party like you never left it. Everyone will meet at four o’clock in Zeke’s apartment. The route from the dormitories to here will keep you from crossing paths with anyone you don’t wish to see and it isn’t on any of the leaders’ radars. I’ll make sure all the weapons you might need are waiting for you. At four-thirty you’ll head for the control room. All of the patrol guards on duty at that time will be pulled to guard the corridors leading to the control room from the Pit onward. I’ll provide you with enough blackout darts to incapacitate them quickly and quietly.

“If we receive consent from the other factions you will enter the control room to arrest everyone inside, including me, and head to Candor for immediate trial. If we do not get their consent, then you will take down every single person inside that room.” He looks around very seriously at each person as if to convey the words he cannot bring himself to speak aloud. “Four is right, we need to destroy an ideology but first we must protect the innocent lives that will be lost if we fail. If you feel that you cannot proceed without the consent of the other factions, I will not blame you. But this is your only opportunity to step back. If you attempt to stand in our way you will be treated as a threat and we will be forced to neutralise you.”

No one makes a noise, no one makes a move, and no one looks at all fearful of what Eric has just said to us. Everyone looks determined and ready to fight for the people of this city. I catch Eric’s eyes, a curious sort of warmth spreading through my chest.

For the first time, I allow myself to feel some semblance of hope.


	27. You Jump, I Jump, Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where that M rating comes into play and it’s the longest one I’ve ever written (so far). There’s smut ahead and it’s the first time I’ve ever written it so my apologies. If you’re not interested in reading smut it’s at the end of the chapter and you’ll get a sense of when it’s coming (pun so very much intended) so you have plenty of warning to skip out. I’d like to thank my best friend and beta Ara for editing this for me; I was literally so mortified I couldn’t even look at it to see if I made any glaring errors. I am also well aware that a discussion of sexual assault in the factionless sector is a strange way to lead up to such a scene, but I’m laying groundwork and I made every effort to treat the topic with the utmost respect and care it needed. Unfortunately, this chapter will have to tide you over for a while because I’m graduating this week and packing up my apartment and moving home and going on vacation BUT once I’m home I’ll be posting the next chapter :)

I race around the perimeter of the compound like a tempest in the early morning light. My head is a raging hurricane of leftover horrors from the nightmares I struggle to banish from my mind. Though my legs feel like lead and my lungs burn miserably I keep running, as if the action alone can save me from my thoughts.

Our departure from Zeke's apartment the previous evening was a quiet one. Will went with Tori to reach out to her Erudite contacts, so it was just us girls returning to the transfer dormitory. We didn't say a word to each other for most of the journey as we attempted to avoid running into anyone and drawing attention to ourselves. When we were about a floor above the dorms, in the very same spot Eric kissed me for the first time, Christina just couldn’t keep it in anymore.

_"I just don't understand!" She bursts out, startling us both. Tris is the first to recover from the outburst, dragging us into the alcove with a stern look shot at Christina to keep it down. "He hung me over the chasm! He threw knives at Tris! He bullied Al!"_

_"I can speak for myself, thank you." Tris tells her firmly, though not unkindly. "I was angry then, but I've moved on. I was a fool to think that I could flounce Eric's orders and say what I said without repercussions."_

_"That doesn't mean he should have thrown knives at you!"_

_"He didn't, Four did and he did that to teach me a lesson not to actually harm me. Eric's methods are twisted, I'll give you that, but they aren't just for fun."_

_"He still hung me over the chasm!"_

_"But did you not learn something from it?" I'm surprised that Tris is the one defending Eric in this instance, but I'm relieved it's not me. I imagine Christina will be much more receptive to Tris explaining his behavior than me._

_"He bullied Al until he killed himself! What was the lesson in that?"_

_"Al was never going to make it here and we all knew it." The sharpness in Tris's voice startles me, but it fails to surprise me. After what he did, I'm just impressed she didn't say 'fuck Al' or something to that effect. "Al was weak and a coward and he didn't belong here. He should have never chosen Dauntless and it was only a matter of time before he ended up with the factionless. Eric pushed him to get him to leave of his own volition so that he could feel as if he had some choice in the matter. Eric's job is to train soldiers and ensure that every member of Dauntless is up to the task. That means pushing us past our limits because when you need to protect this city your own limits don't matter. Al refused to even go near his limits. He was a dead man walking and Eric was trying, in his own messed up way, to just put him out of his misery. Eric is a lot of things, but responsible for Al and what he did he is not."_

_Christina contemplates this, looking between us with an expression I cannot decipher. I never considered the effect my relationship would have on my friends and I wince at my own naivety and selfishness. Finally she heaves a sigh and slumps her shoulders, looking as exhausted as we all feel._

_"I'm not going to be his best friend." She tells us, as if that was ever a possibility. "But I suppose I will tolerate his presence."_

_"How generous of you." Tris grins and just like that all the tension between us disappears._

The pleasant relief I felt from our resolution did not extend to my sleeping hours. I felt trapped in my own mind for hours, watching as every possible misstep in our plan played out in my dreams. After one particularly gruesome nightmare in which I watched every single person in Zeke's apartment executed before my eyes I gave up on sleep, leaving the compound for a run.

I'd estimate that I've been out here for about an hour and a half, but I know I still have plenty of time before I need to be back. Today is the final day of stage three before we go through our fear landscapes tomorrow morning. There isn't much else I can do to prepare other than to hope the landscape doesn't reveal too much of my private mind.

Eric warned us before we left that Jeanine was coming to observe our fear landscapes. She claims it's to monitor the efficacy of the landscape system, but we know better. We have no control over our landscapes so all I can do is avoid eye contact and hope nothing suspicious comes up.

I try to think of something from home that can help me feel calm for tomorrow. I could meditate like my mother does when she feels anxious, but I could never get my mind to quiet down enough for it to work. I'm sure I could find some peace serum somewhere in this faction, but I hate how spacey it makes me feel. I longed to climb an apple tree in the orchard or zip line through the skyscrapers again, but I'll have to make do with a simple run.

I'm so consumed by my own thoughts that I miss the factionless man until it is too late. I run right into him and knock us both down, landing on my right shoulder with a hard wince. The first thing I see when I move is a series of angry red marks on my shoulder. The second is the furious factionless man still sprawled out on the ground.

"I am so sorry!" I jump up immediately, reaching down a hand to help him up even as my shoulder cries out in protest at the motion. He bats away my hand and struggles to pull himself into a standing position, but he gets there in the end. "I didn't mean to—"

"Hush, your voice is too much this early." He grumbles and I snap my mouth closed, stunned and insulted. "Shouldn't you be in Amity?"

"What?"

"So damn apologetic, not like these other Dauntless. You don't belong here."

"Yes, I do." I reply, my voice cold. Instead of arguing, the man grins.

"Ah, an initiate. Isn't it about time you took your test?"

"Tomorrow morning." I try to conceal the flare of nerves I feel just at its mention but if the look on his face is any indication I don’t think I succeed.

"You think you'll pass?" I open my mouth to respond but I stop, considering his question. All this time I've been thinking about how I want to pass, how much I _need_ to pass. I've never really taken the time to think about if I'll actually pass.

"I hope so." I answer after a moment of thought, honest. There's a sad, knowing gleam in his eyes that transports me back to my days in Amity when he looks at me.

"For your sake, I hope so too."

* * *

Later that night I wander down the halls to Eric's apartment, fresh out of my fear landscape. The words of the factionless man echo in my head despite every effort to banish them from thought. There was nothing malicious in his tone or the words themselves, but still I am uneasy.

There was some unsaid sentiment on the man's face that I could not read. Though we were virtual strangers there was honesty in the way he hoped I would pass initiation, a sort of desperate hope. I ponder the sort of unspoken horrors happening in the factionless sector that he hoped I never knew.

I had overheard snippets of whispered stories shared among members back in Amity, quiet remnants of horrors too terrible to ever be spoken aloud. The factionless often showed up asking for food and no one ever bat an eye. But when a factionless woman came alone, a strange sort of tension settled over the faction.

The emotional counselors were always called to escort her to the infirmary first. The women were whisked behind a curtain for some sort of examination. I could hear them crying back there, but I never knew why. The counselors then took them away to their offices with a sedative in one hand and a pain reliever in the other.

I once asked my mother about the way the women were treated when they came alone. I had been a child and I couldn't possibly understand. She hoped I would never understand. I wish I didn't.

 _"When a factionless woman shows up here alone, it usually means someone has hurt her."_ She'd told me, as gentle and light as she could muster.

_"Someone in the factionless sector?"_

_"Sometimes, but not always."_

_"But why come here? Why not go to the Dauntless?"_

_"The Dauntless are not known for their kindness, but we are. They trust that we will help them and make them feel better."_

_"But why?"_

_"Because it is our duty to be kind. Remember the manifesto? 'Cruel thoughts lead to cruel words, and hurt you as much as they hurt their target.'"_

_"I wish the people who hurt those women could learn that."_

_"I wish that as well, my darling."_

Unbidden, Eric's comment on that boy’s factionless mother pops into my head. _"The word of a factionless woman means little in the courts of Candor,"_ he had said. What did that mean?

I walk a little faster down the hall and bang on Eric's door, not caring that his neighbors can probably hear me. He opens the door a moment later, nearly getting hit in the face with my fist. He looks startled, but not displeased to see me.

"Hey, what are you—"

"You said that the word of a factionless woman means little in the courts of Candor." I say without preamble, entering the apartment as Eric moves aside to let me in. "What did you mean by that?"

"Indie, what does this—"

"I ran into a factionless man today." I see the way Eric's face darkens and I'm quick to explain. "We talked about how the final test is tomorrow. He wished me well, but there was just… _something_ in the way he said it that got me thinking."

"How did he say it?"

"Like…like there are terrible things happening in the factionless sector that he hoped I would never see. It reminded me of when I was little and how factionless women would show up alone to Amity. They weren't treated like the other factionless who’d show up begging for food, they were more weary and they always came alone. Counselors come and bring them to the infirmary before taking them to their offices with medications. I never really connected the dots but now, I just…Eric, what happens to women in the factionless sector?"

Eric doesn't respond immediately, contemplating how he wants to say this. I know he doesn't want to upset me, but the idea that he and the other leaders know what happens in the factionless sector makes me violently ill inside. Finally, he sighs and decides to just let the truth come.

"I know what you're thinking, and it's not like we don't try to do anything about it." He gives a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "It's not like we're the Amity, you know? They don't trust us because we police them. We can't protect them if they don't tell us, but they won’t tell us if they don’t trust us. We’re not exactly known for being the best at building up trust with the factionless. The Amity counselors do their best to convince them to come to us, but they usually don't. When they do, they don't have much luck once we pass it on to Candor. If another factionless man does it then it's written off as a reality of living among faction rejects and criminals. If a member of a faction does it, then more often than not the women are accused of lying. It's rare that a member of a faction is ever convicted."

"But has it ever happened?"

"Once that I can remember. There was camera footage and so the testimony of the factionless woman was no longer necessary."

"That's despicable!" I'm aghast and Eric must detect something in my expression because he moves closer. "If a woman who was a member accused a factionless man—"

"Then they wouldn't even question it." He finishes for me and shakes his head at the harsh cruelty of our society. "It isn't right, but there's nothing we can do about it."

"Have you even tried?" I find my answer in the guilt that crosses his face. "So you knew this was happening and you did nothing? What sort of protector are you? Whatever happened to ordinary acts of bravery, for standing up for others? Does _anyone_ around here actually remember that part of the manifesto?”

“You’re right.” I expect him to object, to make excuses and justify his apathy, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, he surprises me. “This has gone on for far too long and the fact that we haven't done anything about it is a travesty and I am ashamed. You have my word, once this is all over I will do what I can to put a stop to it.”

“It isn’t just Dauntless that needs to change the way these sorts of things are handled. The factionless have been neglected and mistreated for far too long. Every faction is guilty of not doing enough, Amity and Abnegation included. We need to change laws, put protections in place, and give them a proper voice in the courts. The factionless may be the rejects of the factions, but that doesn’t mean that we can just pretend they don’t exist. Here we are, fighting to protect the Divergents who are being persecuted for being different when we neglect the factionless for the very same reason. We have to do something about this.” Eric gets a strange look on his face that I can’t quite interpret until he speaks again.

“Have you ever thought about applying to leadership?”

“Lately I’ve been more concerned with not dying in a genocide and not getting cut. I don’t even know if I’ll make the top five and get to pick my job.”

“I know where you stand. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to pick your own career.”

“Tris is ranked above me, surely she’ll be the one asked to apply for leadership.”

“Not necessarily. Four was ranked first and he refused to go into leadership. Besides, once all this is over we’ll have openings for more than one leader in training.” I ponder this, not dissatisfied with the idea. I hadn't ever considered leadership before as an option, but I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world I could do.

“For now we need to focus on ensuring we even have a future.” I tell him, firm. “I can make career decisions later.”

“Just something to think about.” He shrugs, but there’s something in the way he says it that makes me think it’s more than that. “But you sounded like a leader to me just then. If we’re going to change the way this city runs, we’re going to need a strong leader like you leading the charge.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I promise, clearing my throat uncomfortably as I consider the conversation we need to have next. “Eric, have you ever—”

"No! Indie, I would _never_ , I—" His answer is so immediate and aghast I’m puzzled, realizing too late that he misunderstands me.

"No, of course not! I didn't think you would ever…" I let the sentence trail off as an overwhelming sense of discomfort spreads through me. "I meant, have you ever…you know…done something…consensual…"

"Oh." He catches on and I'm relieved I don't have to continue bumbling my way through this. "Yes, but not since initiation started. Have you ever…"

"No." I'm sure my face is bright red by the point but I carry on. "I didn't want to start anything with anyone when I knew I wasn't going to be staying in Amity."

"And now?" I feel as if all the air has been sucked from the room at the look he gives me.

"Now I have plans to stay here, if I'm allowed."

"You will be." He promises me, expression solemn. "Once all of this is over, you and I are going to have a future here in Dauntless. Together."

“What if we’re too late?” It’s the first time I’ve voiced my fears out loud and I can feel a hysterical edge creeping in to my tone. “What if we’re doing all of this for nothing and we’re still going to just fail in the end?”

“We can’t fail.”

“I know we can’t, or else all those people will—”

“No, I mean, we can’t fail because Jeanine is a coward. When it really comes down to it, we’re willing to sacrifice every thing we have including our lives in order to protect all of those people. Jeanine doesn’t have that sort of conviction or commitment. She wants power, but she’s not willing to give everything up to obtain it. Even if we all go down with her, she will never win.”

“Suppose we fail…”

“Then every faction we go to with evidence will know the truth. They will know exactly what she did and exactly why she did it and they will see to it that she is brought down. Even if they all say no, they will know we were right and they won’t be able to keep their heads buried in the sand for any longer.”

“If everything goes wrong and we die trying…” I trail off, holding up a hand to keep him for interrupting me, needing to get this out in the open, “there’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He promises me and though there are so many factors far beyond his control, I believe him. It occurs to me then that though he has told me precisely how he feels about me, I have yet to do the same for him.

“I love you, Eric.” He blinks back at me, stunned, before an awed sort of smile stretches across his face. I smile back, shy but unwavering. “I, uh, just thought you should know.”

“Thought I should know, huh?” He grins, charming and suave now that he’s over his initial shock. “Anything else you think I should know?”

“Yeah, um…” I trail off, uncomfortable, but he waits patiently for me to continue, looking like he has all the time in the world, “you should probably know that even though I, uh, haven’t done…anything, with anyone before, I wouldn’t be opposed to, uh…doing _something_ with you.”

“I’m, uh,” he clears his throat, a nervous blush coloring his cheeks, going right back to shy, “are you sure?”

“Yeah.” I say quietly and I mean it. He hesitates for only a moment before he walks forward, sliding an arm around my waist before leading us to sit on the sofa. I lean into the warmth of his body, feeling the tension melt away from my shoulders. His thumb traces the notch of my spine through my shirt but with the heat it leaves behind I may as well be bare.

“I know this isn’t, uh, very Dauntless but we should talk about this first.” He’s still blushing, but there’s an excited edge to the embarrassment. I never thought I’d see the day when Eric was shy, but here we are. “Every faction has a different perspective on sex, so we should probably talk about what you were taught in Amity.”

“Not much, to be honest.” I tell him, hoping I don’t look as nervous as I feel. “I mean, they teach you the mechanics first when you’re young because of all the livestock. We’re told that for humans it’s a natural part of being alive, but beyond that it’s up to your parents to tell you the rest. My mother never really told me much, my father died right around the time that most kids were getting the talk, but she told me that I should wait to be with someone who loves me.”

“Dauntless takes a slightly different approach.” He explains, reverting to Erudite mode as though we’re discussing the sociological workings of the factions and not sex. “They view sex as a release of pleasure and an affirmation of life. Sex can be casual or it can be serious, but as long as every participating party is there willingly then it can’t be wrong.”

“What about Erudite?”

“There’s a bit of a split view in Erudite. Some believe it should be done purely for reproductive purposes between married couples, but that belief is dying out with the older generation. Most of the faction believes that it is part of a healthy, loving relationship that may occasionally be used for reproduction but should primarily be for pleasure and an expression of love.”

“How about you?” I’m curious to know if he’s adopted his new faction’s attitude, or if his Erudite ways have held true.

“I…I think it’s a great way to release some tension and stress, but it doesn’t truly mean anything unless it’s with someone you love.”

“Have you ever gotten that…release with someone who hadn’t before?”

“Yes.” My eyebrows shoot up, stunned, and the nervous blush returns in full force. “Just the once, she was from Erudite and it was during initiation. It didn’t mean anything, we just wanted to see what it was like.”

“And what was it like?”

“Um, not great to be honest. Neither of us knew what we were doing, but we got there in the end.”

“But those other times…”

“Were much better thanks to practice.” I do my best to keep my expression light, but I must not succeed in concealing the twinge of envy in my heart. “I mean—”

“It’s fine,” I assure him, and I do mean it even if my face hasn’t quite caught up yet, “I’m not naïve, I know that you’ve—”

“I wasn’t bedding a different girl every night before you came around if that’s what you’re wondering.” It wasn’t, actually, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t glad to hear it. “I mean, I definitely know what I’m doing—”

“I didn’t know I was dating such an expert.” I grin and he winks, relieved that I’m not reacting poorly.

“You have no idea.” His voice falls husky and low, the tone working entirely too much for me. I flush a deep red from head to toe, averting my gaze for a second before I turn back to him. My heart stops at the look of complete adoration clear on his face and I know then that this is definitely something I want with him.

He doesn’t move a muscle, letting me make the first move to give me an out if I want one. I lean forward, resting my hands on the firm muscle of his shoulders as I cover his mouth with mine. The kiss is chaste at first, so unlike what I know comes next, but after a moment I feel something shift between us. His arm crawls up the notches of my spine towards my neck as his tongue peeks out to trace the seam of my lips. I grant him access after a moment, my heart doing a funny little thing as his tongue slides across my own. His hand gently tangles itself into my hair, tilting my head as his other hand slides up to cradle my cheek.

We’ve kissed before but this time feels different, like the weight of what we are about to do permeates everything we do in the lead up.

He curves his tongue around the line of my teeth before he tugs my bottom lip between his teeth, alternating between a gentle suck and a soft bite. The hand in my hair scritches against my scalp as the one cradling my cheek drifts down my neck to the constellation across my collarbone. He traces against the tattoo blindly, leaving behind a trail of fire as he drags his fingers from one shoulder to the other. The hand in my hair drifts back down my spine to wrap around my waist once more, pulling me forward to straddle his lap. I gasp quietly as I feel him between my thighs, hard and fever warm even through his jeans. The hand around my waist retreats to my hair, sliding up my side and just barely brushing against the curve of my breast on the way.

We stay like that for a long while, just making out like carefree teenagers on a sofa with all the time in the world. It strikes me then that we’re both so young, we _should_ be able to make out like carefree teenagers, but that is not the reality of our situation. He must think something along the same lines because he pulls back a moment later, pressing his lips against my forehead in the barest of touches. He shifts forward and I take the hint, standing up off of him so he can get up. He pulls me across his apartment over to the staircase leading up to his lofted bedroom above. He climbs the stairs slowly, looking back to me every few seconds as if to check I haven’t changed my mind in the half second since he last checked. Each time he turns back I shoot him my most reassuring smile, as if he has a reason to be nervous here.

His bed is large, much larger than I could see from the other times I was here, and topped with a fluffy blanket that looks incredibly cozy. Before I can take in too many details of the room he leads me over to his bed, sitting us side by side. I feel nerves bubbling up in my stomach but it’s a pleasant bout of nerves, not like the way I feel before I enter my landscape. He still holds my hand in his own and he squeezes gently to pull me from my thoughts.

“We’ll go as slow as you want. If you need to stop just tell me and I won’t hesitate. I’ll do my best not to hurt you, but—”

“I understand.” He nods, taking this as the permission he needs, and pulls me along with him further up the bed towards a wall of pillows. We sit cross-legged on the mattress as we face each other, grinning like a couple of idiots. The reality of what we’re about to do hits me as he reaches a hand for the bottom of my shirt.

“You first.” If he’s put off by the demand he hides it well, obediently pulling his shirt up and over his head. My eyes are immediately drawn to the inky expanse of his chest, awed by the sheer artistry of the tattoo. I’d seen hints of some sort of maze design beneath the sleeves of his shirt but I hadn’t realized how far the design continued beneath the fabric.

A great big labyrinth stretches from one arm to the other and up around his shoulder down to his biceps. I trace my eyes across the maze to see if I can spot an exit, but it looks as if I were dropped into it that I would never find my way out again. Eric is well built in ways that his jackets and shits all failed to highlight. I’d always known he had muscle, that much was clear, but I hadn’t realized the extent of his strength until this moment. If I were with anyone else I would feel intimidated by the knowledge that, if he wanted to, he could force me and I would be unable to put up a fight. But with him, I know I need not worry.

He drags his hands across my folded legs, fingering the hem of my shirt as I snap back into the moment. He raises his eyebrows, somehow both checking on me and challenging me with one look, and I remind myself that a promise is a promise. I ignore the shaking in my heads as I tug it over my head in one quick stroke of movement. I’ve barely tossed it to the floor before I feel Eric’s hands stroking the newly revealed skin, tracing up the length of my abdomen with a single finger as he stares, transfixed, at my chest. My breasts are heaving in their fabric confines, though whether it’s from nerves or excitement I am not yet sure. He looks to me for permission and I nod, not putting up a fight when he reaches behind my back to tug at the clasp. I feel the straps give as he unhooks the contraption and drags the garment down my shoulders slowly. I avert my gaze, looking at a point above his head as I let him look me over. I am not ashamed of my body like the Abnegation are taught to be, but I don’t exactly relish in the idea of being bare before him like this.

I feel the bed shift beneath as he moves forward, pulling my attention back to him as he presses his lips against mine. He doesn’t make a move to deepen the kiss before he trails his lips across my cheek and down my neck. I’m struggling to breathe by the time he reaches my collarbone and I feel his tongue trace across the inky constellation there. I can't contain a shiver as his hand traces up my stomach while his mouth drifts over to my shoulder, dragging his teeth and tongue across my skin.

He reaches the dip in my collarbone beside my shoulder at the exact moment his hand cups my breast. His thumb brushes across me before his forefinger joins in to pinch my nipple between his two fingers, rolling it as I sigh softly at the sensation. He coaxes it to hardness before his hand shifts to the other side of my chest while his mouth drags down from my shoulder. I jump at the first feel of his mouth but I soon arch my back at the wonderful sensation. His fingers attend to my neglected breast while I grind my hips against the mattress unconsciously. He must notice the movement because I feel his other hand skim down to the top of my pants. He tugs once and I lift up, allowing him to tug the fabric from my legs and toss it aside. His hand traces the skin at the hem of underwear and I don't put up a fight as he tugs them down and off my legs as well. I sink back to lie flat on my back as he wastes no time in trailing his mouth down my body, leaving openmouthed kisses in his wake. I startle as I feel his breath between my legs and he stops, looking up to me for confirmation.

“Is this ok?” He asks, rubbing his thumb at the crease where my thigh meets my hips. “If—” Instead of continuing he drops a kiss a little lower, dragging a finger alongside the seam of me. I keen, helpless, but I carry on anyway.

“Are you sure you want to? I mean I might be—” I make a face, embarrassed, but I need to get the words out, “gross?”

“Not gross.” He murmurs, dropping another kiss as he spreads my legs further apart. “Promise.”

That’s enough for me and so I try to relax into the soft sheets, even as my face flames red. His eyes are intently focused on the apex of where I can feel myself dripping for him and I feel a flare of heat in my belly. He continues down past the point where my instincts are begging him to be and kisses across my inner thighs, biting the soft skin as I writhe impatiently above him. He doesn't tease me for too long and drags his mouth up to me, stealing all the air from my lungs as his tongue makes a first long swipe. My hands shoot down of their own accord and I don't even realize I've twisted my hands up in his hair until I feel him smirk against me.

He licks through my folds with the tip of his tongue, rolling wetness around my clit then down to my entrance as he holds my thighs in place in his hands. For a moment I fear I might bite right through my lip but the feeling of a finger slipping in to my entrance immediately distracts me. Tingles shoot through me as his finger begins to move in time with his tongue rolling around my clit and I cry out as I feel a second finger joining the first in me. He lays his free hand over my hips to still me and for good reason as I've surrendered myself to the sensations between my thighs. He seals his mouth over my nub, sucking _hard_ as his fingers begin to increase their pace in response to the motion of my hips. I gasp his name when I feel all the muscles from my thighs to my chest clench as I feel myself approaching the precipice of something. Eric must sense this as he picks up speed and sucks harder even as I try to hold on to this feeling forever. He pulls his mouth off my clit as his fingers continue, meeting my gaze intently.

“Let go, Indie.” His voice is commanding and for a brief moment I feel like I'm in the training room and not his bedroom.

I obey anyway as he returns his mouth to my clit and my climax shoots out to every nerve ending in my body. My mouth falls open wide in a silent scream as stars swirl behind my eyelids and I feel every muscle in my body release all their tension at once. My hips buck wildly against him as waves of pleasure course through my body but he weighs me down with his arm, his mouth still around my clit twisting into a satisfied smirk. I push him off me once the pleasure has completely unleashed, sensitive and overwhelmed by the sensations he's just given me. He doesn't seem to take offense to this, releasing my clit with a soft growl as he slows his fingers but keeps them inside even as I lay. I can feel him watching me as I blink hazy eyes up at the ceiling, struggling to catch my breath.

“Does…” I pause, panting as I try to form words, “fuck, does that always happen?”

“When you’re with me, it does.” His grin is cocky, but I can’t find it in me to disagree with him. He ghosts soothing kisses up over my thigh and along my hip as he pulls his fingers from me and I shiver at the current of electrified pleasure the motion incites. I struggle to hoist myself up onto my elbow and move the hand that had been clutching his hair down to cup his cheek. He turns his head to kiss the pad of my thumb, biting gently before sucking the tip of it much like he had just been doing elsewhere only moments before. “I want you to know that I’m clean. I get tested every few months and I haven’t done anything since the last time I was tested. I assume you’re not on any sort of birth control?”

“I haven’t really needed it before.” My voice is still breathless but even it cannot hide the nerves in my tone. Eric smiles, flipping my hand around to kiss the top of it as if that would calm me instead of turning me on as much as everything else about him does.

“Then we’ll use protection.”

He pushes himself up off the bed with one final kiss to my hand, disappearing into a bathroom I hadn't noticed before. He returns moments later with a small gold foil packet in just his boxers, discarding his jeans somewhere along the way. My eyes are immediately drawn to the bulge in his boxers, silently wondering how that is possibly going to fit. He must notice where my attention has gone because he sets the packet down on the nightstand and coaxes me to the edge of the bed. He picks my hands up in his own and drops them on to his hips, tucking my fingers into the waistband with a meaningful look. I don't need to ask what he’s telling me because the look on his face is explanation enough.

I take a deep breath before I follow his instructions and tug the fabric down over his hips, my eyes honing in on the center of his hips as his erection springs free. I barely pay any attention as I tug the boxers the rest of the way down, almost hypnotized by his member. Curiosity overwhelms me and I don't even think as I reach a hand forward to wrap around him, surprised by the contrasting sensation of soft skin and hard muscle. I stroke him once to experiment and Eric sighs appreciatively which I take to mean I'm doing something right so I repeat the motion, captivated by the blissful expression on his face. After a few more strokes he wraps his hand around my own to pull me off, using his free hand to stroke my cheek as he pants between words.

“That was great, you’re great…” He trails off, kissing me once before pulls away, “but I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

I blush furiously as the implication of his words hits me but the reminder of what we’re about to do soon distracts me. He doesn't say a word as he picks up the gold packet and rips it open to reveal a condom, rolling it down his length with the quick practice of an expert. I shift to lie back on the bed as he moves to hover over me and I bite my lip at the lustful look in his eyes.

"Are you ready?" His voice seems almost thunderous in the quiet of the apartment even though it is just barely above a whisper. I nod, unwilling to let my apprehension stop me from what I want. "It's going to hurt, I can't control that, but I'll do my best to lessen it."

"I know it will. I trust you." He beams brilliantly and I know that it is my trust in him that elicits that sort of reaction in him.

He gives me one final encouraging look before he flexes his hips and begins to slowly ease his way into me. I wince and he halts immediately, eyes wide and worried but I nod at him to continue anyway. He pushes in further and I grab at the sheets in a white-knuckle grasp, wincing at the unfamiliar stretch. He’s about halfway in, at the point where he’s starting to become thicker and for a moment I wonder if I can take any more. The tip of him reaches a hard ring of muscle inside and he pauses, looking so apologetic I already dread what comes next.

“Just breathe and try to relax, it will be worse if you’re tense.” I nod, following his instructions even as my mind races thinking about the pain. He thumbs the line of my jaw until the tension lessens, hovering at the edge. “Breathe.”

He pushes in the last couple inches all at once rather than drag it out. White-hot pain radiates from within me and I gasp weakly, breathless from the intensity of the pain as my body rejects the intrusion. Eric is _big_ , bigger than even I imagined, and my muscles clench tightly around him painfully hard. He watches me with wide, panicked eyes but I can’t find it in me to try to reassure him at the moment.

“Indie?” He asks, brushing the hair off my face as he clutches my face in his hands. “Are you—”

“I—” I pause, trying to breathe through the pain, “hurts.”

He makes a move to pull out, looking as if he is already beginning to silently berate himself, but the motion hurts even worse so I stop him with a hand on his arm. He looks at me, questioning, but I keep him where he is and he doesn’t fight it. Not a word passes between us as I breathe through it, eyes locked together like they’ve been glued that way. Finally, after a few minutes of complete stillness, I shift experimentally. He gasps, unable to stop himself, and I’m relieved to find that I don’t hate moving as much as I thought I might.

“Ok,” I tell him, nodding, “slow.”

He nods, complying, and starts to move. The relief in his expression is so palpable I feel a twinge of guilt for not relenting sooner, but I know he would be horrified that I even considered the thought so I banish it from my mind. He moves slowly as he withdraws before pushing back inside and I wince even though my body has already accommodated his member before. Eric sets a slow and steady pace while my body still struggles to adjust but eventually the pain gives way to a new sensation similar to the one I felt before with his mouth between my thighs. Eric must see something in my eyes as he increases the pace and shifts so that each time he thrusts into me it brings his pelvic bone into contact with my sensitive clit.

I cry out, taking us both by surprise as my climax erupts without warning and hits me out of nowhere. He holds still to fight back his own orgasm as I come down from my own, stroking his finger against my cheek as I give a full-body shudder. He leans up once I've tipped over the edge and presses his lips to mine, tracing his tongue along my lips before it finds my own. I sink in to the kiss as he begins to move again, faster this time as I feel him release some of his restraint when I move my hips experimentally to meet each of his thrusts. I flex my legs and move my hips so that he's forced all the way inside me in one fell swoop and we cry out together at the blissful sensation of having him deep inside me. He stills for a moment to soak up the feeling before he pulls back and slams into me rougher this time as I pant along to the motion.

" _Fuck_ , baby, you feel so good." He groans, punctuating each word with a hard thrust as he buries himself completely inside me.

I can only cry out in response as he dips his head down to my neck, biting the soft skin printed with ink. He pumps in and out of me furiously and I can tell he's getting close from the way he moves a bit more clumsily and grunts in time with my moans. He drags his head up to bite my lower lip between his teeth as he drives us both closer to climax. I come first once more, my moans so loud they may as well be a scream as my walls spasm tightly around him to coax him to his own orgasm. He gasps for air as his climax runs its course and he pulls out of me, tugging off the condom and pulling me in to his side as we struggle to catch our breath. There's a heady smell of sex in the room but I hardly notice it, snuggled into Eric's side as I try not to fall asleep on him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He mumbles into the top of my chest, dragging his hands down my sides as if he's scanning for injuries. "Was I too rough?"

"No." I whisper, breathless as I fight against the warring need to close my eyes. "You were perfect." A grin lights up his whole face and I smile back, reaching forward to smooth my lips against his forehead before settling back into the covers.

“I need you to promise me something.” He murmurs, pulling me in closer to his body and I shiver at the gravity in his tone.

“Anything.”

“If something goes wrong, when we’re in the control room…” he hesitates, swallowing harshly as a dark look crosses his face and I can already tell I won’t like where he’s going with this, “I need you to promise me that you will get yourself out of there. Take as many of the others with you as you can, but make sure that _you_ make it out of there. If anything happened to you…I don’t know what I would do.”

“I’m not leaving you behind, Eric, no matter what happens.” I snap, suddenly furious at the implication that he would sacrifice himself for me without giving me the option to do the same for him. “We get out of this together, or not at all.”

“Indie, I’m serious. Once they figure out that I’ve betrayed them, you’ll be the first person they look to hurt. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“Together, or not at all.” I repeat my vow, leaving no room for argument. “We know what we signed up for, we all do. I’m not going to run away from a fight like some coward just because you’re worried I’ll get hurt.”

“Indie, they’ll kill you!”

“They may as well kill me if they’re going to kill you.” He sucks in a harsh breath, but I don’t give him a chance to argue. I hold out my pinky, waiting for him to loop his own around mine. Pinky promises are silly and juvenile but in this moment, it’s the only way to signify the severity of this agreement. “Together, or not at all.”

“Together or not at all.” He repeats reluctantly, curling his pinky around my own. Eric uses the connection to pull me forward, crashing his lips into my own as I sigh happily into the kiss. I pull back after a few blissful moments, running my hand down the side of his face gently.

“Don’t worry about me,” I murmur, kissing the worried line between his brows, “I’m a fighter.”

“That’s what scares me most.”


	28. Death Becomes Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay in getting this posted. I went on vacation right after graduating, then as soon as I got back I got strep (which, by the way, so much worse as an adult than a kid) and I was too miserable to do anything—even write. BUT the second I felt better and in the writing mood I got to it and tried to get this done as quickly as I could! I’m so pleased by the responses I got on the last chapter. I think my cheeks were stained red for about two days after I finished writing it so I’m glad to hear that so many people liked it. I thought about adding a morning after scene, but there’s so much meat to this chapter and I didn’t want to break it up so I decided to leave it out. This is the chapter with the final fear landscape so we’ll be revisiting some old fears and some new ones…lots of violence ahead, so be warned.

A sense of apprehension greater than that I've ever felt since I jumped off the train greets me when I wake the next morning. Though there is nothing more I may do to prepare, I cannot shake the feeling that I am unarmed for the day ahead. I wish for a brief moment that the Amity part of myself could take over, for once. As much as we preach peace within the city there is something to be said for finding peace within yourself. But, if I am to pass initiation then I must let the Dauntless part of myself take the reins.

Eric told me—between rounds three and four, by which point the initial pain was all but gone—what to expect. The end of initiation is an excuse for the whole faction to party and everyone will likely be drunk by noon. Large screens in the Pit will show our reactions to our landscape, but blessedly not the fears we must face. Our three fearless leaders will watch us in our landscapes in the same way we see ourselves in them, as if our landscapes were their own. Jeanine and her scientists will be there under the guise of evaluating the serum, but we know that's a lie. Four and Lauren will be administering the serum, but they won't be able to see any more than the rest of the faction.

All the initiates wait together in a room, much like we’ve done for the past two stages. The Dauntless born initiates will go first in the order reverse of their ranks at the end of stage two. Once they’ve all gone then the transfers will go in the same manner. Since Tris is the only other transfer ranked above me, I will be waiting a long time. When everyone has gone then the leaders will convene in their offices to assign final ranks. We won’t see them again until dinner, when they’ll reveal our fates and the faction will descend into chaotic celebration.

The chaos of the celebrating Dauntless will be to our advantage. With everyone caught up in the celebration of the end of initiation we’ll be able to slip away unnoticed. Uriah and I will head to Amity to plead our case while the others go to their former factions. Shauna will provide us a distraction of some sort at the Fence to conceal our arrival. All I know is that we’ll know it when we see it.

“Where did you go last night?” Tris whispers as we ready for the day ahead, tying our shoes side by side. After losing so many transfers those of us that remained rearranged the beds so they were all in a neat row of five. Molly slept at one end and I the other, with Tris as my only neighbor. I’d taken care to not disturb the others when I returned to my bed early this morning, but clearly I failed.

“I was with him.” I try to maintain anonymity in the chance Molly hears us, but she seems too distracted by her own nerves to notice. “We talked about tonight.”

“Just talked?” She asks before she can stop herself as a spot of red flares across her cheeks. I chuckle, deciding that we've spent more time around Christina than we probably should. "I'm sorry, it's none of my—"

"We weren't just talking, no." I smile to let he know I'm not offended, but I reveal no more of my night with Eric. Those moments are sacred, best left just between the two of us, and no one else needs to know. I notice Molly leave the room and though I am still not keen to talk freely, I have less fear of the wrong person overhearing. "He wanted me to promise him that if anything goes wrong I'll get out."

"Four wanted me to promise that too." Tris whispers back shyly and I can't help but grin. The idea that Four is so forthcoming with his concerns for my former Abnegation friend warms my heart. "I told him that I wouldn't leave him behind."

"I said the same thing." We are the last two to leave the dormitory as Christina and Will headed up shortly before Molly. "We either leave together, or not at all."

"Do you think we’ll have to keep those promises?"

"I hope not." I whisper, incapable of allowing myself to consider the possibility any further. “Come on, we should get going.”

We walk the rest of the way up to the fear landscape room in silence now that we are among prying ears. I get clapped on the back so many times on my way up that I'm sure I'll have a bruise on my shoulders for weeks to come. Tris, who originates from a faction not fond on physical contact, takes all the touching in stride though she can't hide her grimace as we disappear into the glass ceiling.

The rest of the initiates are gathered around, waiting for Four and Lauren to arrive. Since we can't leave the room until it's our turn there's a table set up with food, drinks, and cards to pass the time. Uriah waves us over as soon as we step in, positively giddy as we sit down on either side of him.

"You look entirely too happy for someone about to face all their fears right in a row." I tell him but he just grins, reminding me of the fact that he also received Amity on his aptitude test.

"Would you rather I be all jittery and nervous like the rest of these people?" He nods his head at another Dauntless born whose face has turned so pale it looks like she's made of paper. Another stands nearby with his head tucked between his knees, rocking back and forth.

"I suppose not." I acquiesce, hoping that they can pull themselves together before their turn. They may be competition, but I still shudder at the thought of anyone becoming factionless. "But tone it down a bit, would you?"

"Yes, ma'am." He mock salutes me, turning his expression into an appropriately thoughtful frown that looks so out of place on him I can't help but laugh.

"Listen up!" Four shouts as he and Lauren enter the room, startling us all to attention. "Dauntless born will go first, then the transfers. You'll go in the opposite order of your ranks at the end of stage two. For the transfers that means Molly will go first, and Tris you'll go last."

"And for the Dauntless born," Lauren shoots the boy with his head between his knees a long look, "that means Damien will go first and Uriah will go last."

"You can see the screens in the Pit from here, but they will not help you in your own landscape. I recommend you use the time you have to think through your strategies and consider what you may face. The leaders will let us know when they're ready for you and then we'll begin."

"Looks like we'll be here for a while." Tris murmurs and I nod, trying to not groan aloud at the idea.

Though there are only five transfers left, there are still seven Dauntless born we must first sit through. The mood in the room sobers as Eric steps inside to tell Four and Lauren the leaders are ready. He catches my eye for just a second as he returns to the room, but it's enough time for him to wink and set my heart all aflutter. Four takes a seat as Lauren enters the room with Damien and from there it begins.

We watch as initiate after initiate enters the room, never to return. After Uriah steps into the room for what feels like barely five minutes Lauren steps out once more, passing off a syringe to Four before exiting out the way we came in. He calls Molly into the room with him as the rest of us wait for our turn.

Soon only Tris and I remain. Not a word passes between us as we consider our landscapes and plot strategies, just as Four suggested. I have faced an attack by faceless men, drowning in the chasm, a fire in my home in Amity, betrayal by the man I love, becoming my mother, and my father's suicide. I have no idea what other fears I may find in my landscape, but I hope they can't get any worse.

"Indie." I jump up like the chair has been set ablaze when Four calls my name, scurrying from the room so quick I almost miss the encouraging smile Tris sends my way. I don't miss the rise of cheers I can hear from the Pit as I enter the landscape room, nor the small smirk that settles on Eric's lips at the sound.

I follow Four to the center of the room where he tells my name, rank, and faction of origin to the observers. The other Erudite look intrigued by the fact that a former Amity is ranked second, but Jeanine remains impassive. I allow myself a brief moment to fantasize about pushing her into the Chasm before I turn to Four to receive my injection. As the cloudy orange serum makes its way into my veins I focus my attention on Eric. I want him to be my last real memory.

The graffitied walls of the landscape room melt away to reveal the rocky edges of the Pit, empty in the late hour. I stand in the center of the cavernous space, looking around for any sign as to what this particular fear will be. The place is silent, save for the sounds of my own labored breathing and the roar of the raging tide in the Chasm. I am alone.

Or so I think.

Even before I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around me from behind I determine this is the attack by faceless men. It differs from the way it was presented last time, but I suppose the landscape evolves to keep us on our toes. If I were still in Amity, I would attempt to negotiate with my attackers to let me go on the condition that they would face no retribution. But I am Dauntless now, so I begin to kick and scream as I flail wildly in the hopes of forcing my captor to drop me but to no avail.

I wince as the heavy metal railing smashes into the base of my spine and though I know it’s not real, I’m convinced the motion will leave behind a nasty bruise. I spin around to throw punches left and right at the two faceless men before me but they are undeterred, pressing me up against the bar. I expect this to go the way it did in practice, but I know that this fear has turned into something very different when I feel a hand tugging at the hem of my shirt. For a moment I freeze in shock and terror, but in the next second I amp up my attacks.

I fight back with my whole body, punching and kicking as I use the railing as leverage to hold me up. I scream and shout as I desperately try to claw my way out of their clutches, horrified as their faces transform into the face of the factionless man I knocked down just the day before.

“It’s no use, darling.” They tell me in perfect unison, their voices unlike the man from the day before but eerily similar to Eric’s. “The word of a factionless woman means little in the courts of Candor.”

This sets a new fire ablaze within me and I leap forward from the railing, tackling one of the men while the other stands frozen in shock. I punch him one, two, three times in the face before the other can leap into action. The Amity part of myself tells me to only hurt them as needed. The Dauntless part of me urges me to destroy them. I punch the one beneath me as hard as I can in the temple, knocking him out instantly and maybe even killing him. I leap up and jump at the other one, shoving him against the railing as I knock his head into it over and over again. It is only when he slumps forward, a crimson puddle beneath his head like a morbid pillow, that I feel I can breathe again.

No sooner have I taken a breath do I find myself pulled beneath the waves as I appear in the Chasm. I gasp as I break the crest, sucking in as much air as my lungs will allow before I’m pulled back under once more. I kick out my arms and legs wildly, desperately trying to force myself beneath the waves but something holds me in place just beneath the surface. The tide pulls me from side to side but never up or down, keeping me unnaturally stuck in its hold. I am terrified and bewildered; this fear has never been particularly difficult to beat in practice, yet somehow I cannot fight this hold it has on me.

I allow myself the brief luxury of letting the fear in for just three seconds, counting them out in my head as I panic about how I’m going to die in this water or among the factionless. Once my three seconds are up I relax my body, allowing it go limp so that the tide might throw me about like a rag doll. I focus on the force of the water around me, distracting me from my fear and allowing me to calm my heart rate. When I feel that I have calmed enough to move on, the landscape compels me to swim deeper to the bottom of the Chasm. Though I remain deep beneath the waves, once my foot brushes the concrete base I can breathe again.

My relief is short-lived as I return to my childhood bedroom in Amity. I jump up before the first smell of smoke hits my nose, making my way down the hall to my mother's bedroom. Her pleas for help tug at my heart but I force myself to tune them out, considering the obstacle before me. The last time I faced this fear was in stage two when I manipulated the sim into making sprinklers appear. I know I cannot do that now, especially not with so many dangerous people watching, so I try to think of how a Dauntless would beat this fear.

But what is this fear, exactly? The first two fears make perfect sense to me. I have always been weary of the factionless, despite every ounce of me reminding myself to be kind. I blamed it on some unconscious prejudice I needed to work to overcome, but maybe I understood more about those factionless women than I thought. An incident in my childhood had left me with a lifelong fear of drowning, so tossing me into the Chasm was a perfectly logical representation. But a fire in my childhood home seeking to claim my mother as victim?

The answer hits me like a ton of bricks. My fear lies not in the fire itself, but in my mother. More specifically, the fact that no matter what I do to fight the fire I cannot save her. Whenever this fear appeared in my landscape, I just forced myself to calm down. While that would be an acceptable way to move past this fear, it is not very Dauntless and I’m not sure I am capable at this moment. But how do I beat this fear of being unable to save my mother?

I don't.

I move almost as if controlled by another, past the bedroom door and to the small window beside the bathroom. I pry it open, looking back at my mother's closed door one final time, before I let go and jump outside. Sometimes not even the Dauntless can save everyone.

I land on the ground with a wince, but as I stand the scene melts away to an apartment in Dauntless. I wince as I spy the first piece of clothing, a lacy bra far too large to belong to myself. The next is a pair of nondescript black boxers but I am well aware of to whom they belong. I climb as if on auto-pilot up the stairs to the lofted area where Eric sleeps. It doesn't even feel real as I see the two bodies writhing beneath the sheets, moaning and groaning much like we did just the night before. I march forward without a second thought, tearing the sheets away to reveal two naked bodies. Landscape Eric looks up, startled, but his expression melts into a sneer as he sees me.

"You meant nothing to me." Simulation Eric spits out as the woman beside him grins wickedly. "Just another notch on the bedpost."

"It doesn't matter." I respond, firm even as my heart cracks right down the middle at his cold look. "I forgive you."

The two disappear a moment later and I fall into the bed as if forced down by invisible hands. My eyelids begin to droop as a sense of numbness settles over my body and I know what comes next. A little girl steps into the room with hair like mine, but a face like Eric's. Tears stream down her face as she sniffles, shuffling to the edge of the bed and grabbing my hands.

"Mommy." She pleads, echoing the exact words I once said to my mother. "Mommy, please. I miss daddy too, but I need you!"

I push away the invisible hands forcing me down as I rise to head towards the mirror in the corner. I barely glance into my reflection before I force my fist through it, shattering the glass into a million pieces. I turn back to the little girl, gathering her up in my arms as I feel the tears stream down my face. We hold onto one another as tightly as the Landscape will allow before she disappears from my grasp.

I know what's coming even before I open the door to my old home and I pray that it will be quick. It is my worst and hopefully final fear, but I know that I can do this. I remind myself to focus on his hands and his missing ring, to just calm my heart rate enough to get out of there. But as I begin to walk down the hall to my parents’ bedroom, I am struck by the overwhelming sensation that there is something amiss in this particular scene. I step forward cautiously, creeping down the hall as my mind races wildly. I don’t know how, but I know that there is something different. When I push open the door the answer is immediate and obvious, for it is not my father who dangles from the ceiling by a rope but myself.

I am strung up by the same rope my father hung himself with, eyes forced closed and head turned down towards the floor. I hesitate, unsure if I want to proceed any further and expose more of this fear to the leaders and Jeanine. If I step forward will I find Divergent carved onto my forehead like in my nightmare? Will the reason for my apparent suicide—the only possible reason I would ever go to such a length—be revealed? Suddenly, a thought strikes me that is so awful and breathtaking I nearly pass out.

Was my father Divergent?

He'd been an exemplary Amity, but he struggled to disconnect himself from his Erudite ways. Sure, all transfers held on to _some_ parts of themselves, but his seemed almost excessive in amount. Was he not simply holding on to his old faction, but a part of him that would forever be ingrained? And was that the reason that he killed himself? Because his divergence drove him to do so?

I banish these thoughts from my mind for the time being, tucking them away somewhere for later. Now is not the time to consider this. I'm on the clock and I need to do something.

I consider the scene before me and the one I've faced in the past. It would be so simple to brush this off as a simple fear of death, but is that all? Or is there more to the scene that I'm just not getting?

"Indigo." I hear a voice whisper and I whip around, finding no one. I furrow my brow as I turn back to the body, telling myself I'm just imagining things in my state of stress. "Indigo." The voice persists and I freeze at the familiar sound of my name coming from my father's mouth. Before I can respond, with what I do not know, he continues. "Indigo, my pumpkin, it isn't too late for you."

It isn't too late for me.

I spring forward and grab the wrist of Landscape Me, feeling for a pulse. I almost cry out when I feel a faint, but very present beat beneath the surface. I jump up onto the bed and begin to untangle the ropes as fast as my hands will allow, catching myself before I slam face first into the ground. I lower my body to the ground and begin compressions immediately, tilting my head back to breathe air into my mouth every so often. Finally, with a strangled gasp that yanks all the fear from my own body, my eyes fly open as I begin to breathe.

The landscape is over.

When I come to I’m still sprawled out on the floor, bent over an invisible body that is no longer there. I look first to Eric and though his expression reveals nothing, there is an unmistakable glint of pride in his eyes. I spare a glance for the Erudite but they all ignore me, furiously writing notes in their journals. Harrison makes notes of his own at a slower pace, seeming thoughtful with his assessment. I look last to Max and he smiles, looking almost impressed.

“Congratulations, Indie.” He tells me as I force myself to stand on shaking legs, willing myself to not pass out in front of all these people. “You have completed initiation.”


	29. The Last Supper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life has been crazy the past few months, but it’s finally starting to calm down. I’m very happy to return to this story and I hope you’ll enjoy. We have a few more chapters left until the end and I’m really excited for what’s coming! I’d love to hear about any predictions you have, or anything else you’d like to see before I wrap up this story. I also want to give a special thank you to all of you who held onto this story, and for your kind messages encouraging me to come back. They mean more than you’ll ever know.

It is only when I find myself alone that I can breathe again.

The dim hallway tucked behind the tattoo parlor is blessedly quiet. The exuberant celebrations in the Pit are merely a dull roar from all the way up here. I release the breath I’ve been holding since I stumbled out of my landscape, crumbling to the floor in a heap of sorrow. I long for Eric, for his perspective and his calming presence to help me find some way to wrap my head around this. But I know that this is my burden to bear.

There was never even a shred of doubt in my mind that my father belonged in Amity. He never spoke of his birth faction, and if his parents hadn't come each Visiting Day in blue I would never have known. When anyone spoke of my father, it was always with this quiet sort of reverence. It was as if our faction had lost far more than just another member in his death. There was no envy in it, like there would have been in any of the other factions. Simply an acknowledgement that there was something uniquely special about my father that died right along with him.

I always presumed that something special was a natural consequence of his upbringing. Perhaps it was his days in Erudite that instilled in him intellect both academic and social that helped him play the part. Now I am forced to wonder if that came from something else entirely.

Divergent was a foreign concept to me until Emily spoke of it after my test. Once I began to learn more about it, and myself, that I began to see it had always been within me. Had the very same been within my father all along? Did he love his home in Erudite as I loved mine in Amity but known, deep beneath the surface in a place untouched by fear and ego, that it was not where he belonged? Had his own initiation experience been marred by fear of discovery or, worse, death? Did he know that he was part of a dying breed with a countdown to extinction lurking in the backs of their minds? Was it this, this overwhelming terror at the prospect of exposure what drove him to—

"There you are! We were wondering where you'd run off to!" Bud's jovial voice brings that dark train of thought to a screeching halt. I whip my head around, surprised to see that he manage to extricate himself from the celebrations. His easy grin twists into a worrying frown as he spies my expressions, stepping further into the hall. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I try my best to sound convincing, but I know that I fail when I see the look on his face. I need to pull myself together before I lose it completely, there is no time to fall apart. "I'm fine, honest."

"You don't look fine." He slides down the rocky wall until he's seated across from me, eyeing me critically. "Was it your landscape? Do you feel sick? Do I need to take you to the infirmary? Should I go get Eric?"

"No!" I burst out, trying to ignore the way my heart picks up its panicked pace at the idea of Eric seeing me in this state. "I'm fine, just a little shaken." I do my best to dampen his concern but I can tell it’s not working, so I try to distract him instead. “Why aren’t you down with everyone else in the Pit?”

“Forgot my lucky flask in the shop.” He holds up a shiny black flask as proof, realistic-looking flames licking up the sides.

"What makes it so lucky?"

"No idea." He shrugs, unscrewing the cap to take a swig of whatever's inside. I catch a whiff of licorice that turns my stomach, wrinkling my nose as I firmly decide I will reject any offer to try a sip. "But I'll take whatever luck I can get at this point."

“Can’t argue with that.” I murmur, closing my eyes as I try to rest against the rocky wall behind me. No words pass between us on the subject, but it’s clear Bud will not go until I seem marginally calmer so I do my best to relax. “Can I ask you something?”

“If I were an Erudite I'd tell you that you just did.” I open my eyes to scowl at him, but he just grins infuriatingly in response. “But, since I am very much not a Nose, I will allow another.”

"Did you know my father? Back in Amity?" Whatever he was expecting me to ask him, it was not this. He grows so still it’s as if he’s turned to stone and I begin to wonder if I’ve somehow said something wrong. When I'm about to apologize, for what I do not know, he heaves a heavy sigh and takes another swig.

"Not when he was alive, no." He frowns in apology as I still wince even after all this time, but I nod for him to continue. "I always say him in the fields during harvest, but we rarely crossed paths. I think the most interaction we had was when he dropped an apple on my head and brought me to the infirmary."

“You went to the infirmary because of an apple?” I can't stop myself from giggling at the idea and the tips of his ears turn bright red, though his relief at my lightening mood is palpable.

"It was a tall tree! Hurt like hell, too, so your father insisted I go to get it checked out. I had a nasty bruise and headaches for weeks, I’ll have you know.”

“Aw, poor baby.” I coo mockingly and he scowls, crossing his arms as a light blush crawls up his cheeks.

“Do you want to hear the rest, or not?”

“Yes, please, I’m sorry.” I try to look appropriately contrite and fail, but he doesn’t seem to mind too much as he continues.

“Anyway, I only ever saw him in passing. He’d grin and ask me how my day was going, but beyond that we didn’t have much interaction. When he died, though...I remember this one night, I overheard my parents talking about him. They went on and on about how it such a terrible loss, a tragedy that Amity had lost its brightest shining star. I heard them say that he had transferred and well...it was a big deal to me. I won't pretend that I knew your father well, but I couldn't imagine him ever being anywhere other than Amity. If he, the most Amity person in the whole faction, could have come from somewhere else then maybe I could actually be ok in another faction."

“Had you always known that you’re Dauntless?”

“No, but I’d always known that I didn’t belong in Amity. I love it, as I am sure you still do, but it wasn’t the place for me. Your father gave me hope that I could find happiness somewhere else, like he did.”

“And did you?” I whisper, voice tight with emotion I kept carefully contained. “Are you happy here?”

“More than I could have ever imagined.” Warmth blooms in my heart, touched that my friend had been so inspired by my father to go find his own happiness. I cannot think of any better way to honour him than that. "Look, I don't know what you saw, but...you know that your father was a good man and he meant so much to so many people. Nothing you saw in your landscape can change that, ever."

For a brief, fleeting moment I consider confiding in him. The words are on the tip of my tongue, the terrible thoughts running rapid fire through my mind. Was my father Divergent? Is that why he is now dead? Was he driven mad by the fear of discovery? Will I have the same terrible fate? Have I lost my mind? Is that how I heard my father's voice in my landscape? But, I say nothing. There are more pressing matters to be dealt with before I can tackle the subject of my father and my divergence. Instead I smile, nod, and thank him for telling me.

"Come on, we should get down there." I open my mouth to argue--I'm not exactly in a celebratory mood--but my mouth snaps shut as he nods to the cameras. Though they are not pointed toward us and this is a safe place to talk, I catch his drift. "Gotta keep up appearances, right?" I nod and rise from the floor, taking his offered hand with a wicked grin.

“Eric will kill you if he sees you holding my hand, you know.”

“Eric wants to kill me anyway, what’s one more offense?”

* * *

There are still people swarming the Pit when we rejoin the rest of the faction, though there are fewer of them. Those who remain stand in neat, single-file lines before cases of orange-brown liquid. I tense at the sight of it, even though we've all been consuming enough anti-serum to ward it off for a week. Still, this knowledge does little to comfort me.

"Come on." Bud murmurs, dragging us over to stand in the shortest line helmed by a woman with a neon yellow mohawk. "Let's get this over with."

"Name?" She asks me when we reach the front of her line, eyes trained on the clipboard in her hands.

"Indie Jagger." She looks up at me, appraising me, before nodding and checking my name off on her list.

"Initiate. Word is you had one of the fastest times."

"It didn't feel like it." I grumble and she cracks a smile, the stud in her dimple catching the light with the action.

"It never does." She picks up a syringe and an alcohol wipe, gesturing for me to move my hair aside.

"What is this?"

"Tracking device. It's activated in you're reported missing, just a precaution. New tech from Erudite."

"Do people often go missing?"

"No, but it never hurts to prepare."

I wonder how much she knows, but I comply anyway. The serum won't effect me, but I'm still not keen on the idea of getting injected with anything else today. I wince as a deep ache spreads through my neck and all the way down to my toes, a flash of cold before it disappears. I step to the side as she injects Bud, knowing there is no way to stop this without arousing suspicion. I force myself to trust in our plan, to trust the serum will fail and so will their plan. Still, I can't stop the twinge of fear in my heart.

“Hey, where were you?” Christina asks as I take the seat beside her soon after, a half-eaten hamburger in one hand and Will’s in the other. “Tris finished her landscape hours ago.”

“Sorry, I needed some time to process.” I say, nonchalant as I grab a patty and a bun. The Christina I met on my first day here would have pried, badgering me to reveal the inner-workings on my mind. The Christina sitting beside me now only smiles, accepting this response without question. "How was your landscape? Any surprises?"

"A few, but nothing I couldn't handle." She boasts, flexing her muscles and grinning. I giggle as I spoon on some tomato sauce, feeling better already. "Yours?"

"Fine. Some surprises, but I doubt they hurt my time too much."

“I’m sure you did well.” Her tone is genuine as she says it, and I detect no envy in her expression. “I wish the leaders would hurry up and come tell us where we stand.”

“I’m sure they do it on purpose.” Will points out, spearing a piece of asparagus with his fork. “Builds suspense.”

“Oh yes, because we’ve been lacking a sense of suspense lately.” Tris says flatly and I snort, thinking back to the Abnegation transfer I met on day one. I could never imagine Tris being sarcastic or sporting tattoos, but I could never imagine a lot of what I would discover here.

"I remember this one year, they didn't reveal the rankings until almost midnight." Uriah's expression turns sheepish as he spies our horrified reactions, backtracking. "I'm sure they'll be much quicker than that."

"That was the year Bud transferred, wasn't it?" Lynn muses, a fond expression crossing her face.

"Oh yeah! Amar let Zeke and Shauna go zip lining after capture the flag that year."

"Yeah, and they didn't shut up about it for six months after. Do you remember when that Rollins kid got stuck halfway down…"

As I listen to the Dauntless-born trade stories and share pieces of their history with us, I take a look around the dining hall. I spy familiar faces with colourful hair and an array of piercings laughing and eating together without a care in the world. I hear the roaring echo of conversation, of arguments and jokes and lively discussions that I probably wouldn’t hear anywhere else. I taste the juicy meat of the hamburger and the rich sweetness of the chocolate cake. I smell the aroma of baked confections and grilled meat, with the sharp undertone of ample amounts of alcohol. I feel warmth and love and an overwhelming sense of peace.

I feel like I’m home.

I watch the Dauntless digest the antidote that will save them from the terrible betrayal plotted by their leaders. It's a sort of Last Supper before all hell breaks loose come morning. I fear their reactions, of the possibility that many would have chosen this same course of action if they had their autonomy, but I know this changes nothing. I would still be willing to sacrifice myself to save them from themselves, if it came to it.

I observe my friends, this ragtag group of people with different personalities and origins but all ready and willing to carry out this crazy plan that might fail. I know in this moment that I cannot let anything happen to them, even if it means breaking my promise to Eric.

Suddenly, there is a commotion from the balcony above as the leaders finally enter the room. Whoops and cheers echo through the hall as members take note of their entrance and I laugh at the exhilarated thrill that shoots through my veins in response. Max steps forward first, raising his arm to silence the crowd as Eric steps up beside him. I ignore the way Christina pretends to gag and Tris smirks as he catches my eye and winks, causing my heart to do a little somersault in my chest.

“Initiates, stand.” We do as he says, rising up on the benches of the table as the members around us pound their fists and cups on the table at our action. “When you cut your hand over the coals during your choosing ceremony, you pledged yourself to eradicate cowardice and fight for peace. We believe in justice, in freedom from fear, and in ordinary acts of bravery. We do not believe in comfort, in silence, in any virtue being more important than bravery.”

As I listen to Max speak on the values of Dauntless, I feel a strange sense of sorrow as I look at him. He sounds so passionate now, but I know that he has warped those values into something cruel. I wonder if he knows how far he has strayed, or if he believes that the choices he has made are how to best exemplify those values.

“We are the warrior faction, and we may only accept the best of the best. If you did not make the top ten, you will leave us tonight for the factionless sector. For those of you who remain, tomorrow you will select your professions in order of how you are ranked. We look forward to seeing what you can do for this faction.”

The screen behind him illuminates with a list of names, the bottom two in red and the rest in white. I read through the list once, twice, and then a third time as I struggle to marry the names on the screen with the numbers beside them.

  1. Tris
  2. Indie
  3. Uriah
  4. Lynn
  5. Will
  6. Maverick
  7. Marlene
  8. Christina
  9. Damien
  10. Caroline
  11. Jonas
  12. Molly



Second. I’m ranked second. Out of all the remaining Dauntless-born and transfer initiates, I’m second. But more than that: now I’m Dauntless.

Christina is the first to recover from the shock, letting out a wild shriek as she throws her arms around Tris and I. The motion nearly sends all three of us toppling off of the bench but we don’t care, too overwhelmed by relief and elation to do anything but laugh. Uriah pumps his fists in the air as Marlene does a little shimmy dance beside him, both of them puling a reluctant Lynn off of the bench and into a strange victory jig. Christina releases us and practically throws herself at Will, who manages to steady the both of them before he pulls her in for a kiss.

I look up to the balcony to meet Eric’s gaze, pleased to see a genuine smile on his face as he nods in approval. Max and Harrison even crack smiles, laughing as they watch Uriah and Marlene dance outrageously beside a reluctantly smiling Lynn. Four pushes his way through the crowd until he reaches Tris, pulling her down from the bench and into his arms. I join in with the cheers and catcalls of the crowd as they kiss, though my gaze wanders back up to Eric.

“I love you.” He mouths while the crowd is focused on Tris and Four, heart fluttering as I grin unabashedly.

“Love you more.”

The celebration soon spills into the Pit, where someone has set up equipment blaring music so loud it shakes the ground. The room is packed so tightly with people it seems that every Dauntless has turned up to celebrate. Someone passes out bottles of something that smell of apples and home, while others lay out tables of chocolate cake.

I nurse one drink the whole night, keen to not let anything interfere with what we must do. I dance with Uriah, Will, and even Four to keep up appearances but I switch my eyes between Eric and the clock the whole night. Soon I spy Uriah nod to me from across the room, jerking his head towards the nearest staircase.

I take one last sip of my drink for courage before I slip out, jogging up the steps to the roof. Uriah and I are the first ones there, retrieving a locked black box from behind a stack of empty boxes. Inside is a tablet loaded with proof of the Erudite's misdeeds, ready to project to a large crowd. Knowing how the Amity govern and make decisions, it will come in handy.

Tris and Four arrive soon after, followed by Christina and Alice. Four passes out keys to the boxes, slipped to him by Eric at some point in the night. We stand by the tracks, the box clutched to my chest like a precious treasure as wait for the trains. Tris, Four, Christina, and Alice will board the train headed East while Uriah and I will go West to Amity.

Our train arrives first, light flooding the tracks beyond the edge of the roof where we wait. Tris wishes us luck as Four nods, and the weight of what we're about to hits me like a ton of bricks. Before I can fall too deep down that rabbit hole, Uriah's voice pulls me back to the present.

"Are you ready?" He asks, as if I have a choice. I nod, turning to run and jump onto the train as it speeds towards us.

"Let's go save our faction."


	30. Amity the Kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. My goal is to update at least once a month, maybe more depending on how chaotic my life is. Also, I made a tumblr specifically for writing so if you’d like to give that a follow it’s comtessedusoleil.

We land in the last car of the speeding train, catching our breath as we slide down the wall opposite the open door. Dauntless fades to nothing but a dark speck in a matter of moments as we race deeper into the night. Uriah stays quiet, eyes on the passing scenery as I contemplate the task ahead.

Our jump point is about a half mile from the edge of Amity, nestled among tall grass and yellow wildflowers. We're to hide there from the Dauntless at the Fence until we receive some sort of signal from Shauna. She didn't tell us exactly what it would be, only that we'd know it when we saw it. Knowing the Dauntless as I do, I could expect anything from flashing lights to an explosion.

Once we're clear, we'll sprint to the barn that serves as Johanna's office and living quarters. I had been reluctant to sleep above the horses while in her care, but it soon felt like a second home. I woke up each morning to watch the apple harvest, pretending I could spot my father among the trees. I hoped those memories of the time I spent as Johanna's surrogate daughter could grant us an open mind.

Johanna serves as the representative of Amity to the Council, but the actual governance of the faction falls to the people. She cannot provide unilateral consent to our request, but she can elect to gather the faction for a vote. Then we can plead our case, show our evidence, and hope that it is enough. Beyond that...I do not have much of a plan.

The Amity do not take sides, it is not in their nature. Appealing to their logic won't get us anywhere, like it would with the Candor or the Erudite. We'll have to speak from the heart, appeal to their kindness. They won't agree to choosing a side in conflict, but they may say yes to choosing kindness.

No matter their response, we must leave by 10:50 to ensure we make it back to the drop point in time. It is imperative that we return to Dauntless by midnight, and missing the train will not help. Whether we succeed or fail with the Amity, we will have no chance if anyone notices that we are missing.

"Do you remember when we met?" Uriah softly breaks my silent reverie, looking not at me but at some fixed point in the distance. "On the train?"

"How could I forget?" My voice is gentle, fond as I recall the memory. I sense something more than a simple stroll down memory lane is afoot, so I try to keep my answers brief. "You gave me my name."

"I woke up that morning with a plan to transfer." I don't respond, but I have a feeling he didn't expect me to. "I was so... _so_ scared when the Abnegation woman told me I was Divergent. The Dauntless didn't speak about them as much as the Erudite, but I still knew I was a danger. If I stayed...I would be putting Zeke and my mom at risk. I couldn't do that to them. I wasn't going to say anything, I didn't want to give them the chance to convince me otherwise. But it felt like the coward's way out, to just leave. No matter what, my family deserved the truth.

"I blurted it out, right before we left for breakfast. I tried to be all Erudite about it, sticking to the facts, but then my mom started crying and Zeke...he _begged_ me not to go. I'd never heard Zeke beg anyone for anything before. He made me promise him that I wouldn't leave, to trust him, and even though I knew it was selfish I didn't want to go so I did. I chose Dauntless. When I got back, he snuck me away from the others and told me that he'd talked to Four. He said that they were going to keep me safe, and he went on about how they'd developed this whole strategy and it hit me—it really hit me, for the first time—that the thing I would miss most about Dauntless if I left was Zeke. Don't get me wrong, I think I would have liked Amity. I would have done well."

"You would have." I reassure him, chuckling as I imagine Uriah amped up on peace serum. "They would have loved you."

"But Dauntless is my home—my family. I couldn't leave them behind."

"I understand. I miss my mother like I miss breathing...but I do not belong in Amity. When I got my test results it was like...like everything finally fell into place. I fit in fine with the Amity, but it always felt like I had to try harder than everyone else. I am grateful I grew up in an environment so keen on peace and kindness, but it stifled me in many ways. The Dauntless always looked so free when I saw them. All I wanted was to feel free." I grin as the familiar fields come into the view, the stunning waves of yellow and green lit by the full moon. "I don't regret leaving. I love this place, and I always will. But it's not where either of us are supposed to be, and that's ok. What matters is that we've found happiness and peace where we are...a place worth fighting to protect."

"For what it's worth, I'm really glad you chose Dauntless."

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm really grateful you didn't choose Amity."

We stand when the train begins to curve around the tracks, preparing to jump. I take a few steps back for momentum before sprinting forward and into the night. I hug my knees to my chest and roll into the dirt with a soft grunt, letting the grass conceal my graceless landing. I perform a cursory exam, checking that the knife tucked away at my hip hasn't shifted into any major organs. When I don't feel blood or searing pain, I turn my focus to the Fence.

"What do you think the signal will be?" I whisper, paying close attention to a group of soldiers chatting near the gate. There are five them all standing in a clump, laughing obliviously to our watchful eye. "What if she wasn't assigned here and she can't get a signal out to us?"

"Shauna will send us the signal, don't worry. If there's one thing that woman loves, it's causing a ruckus."

"I hope she doesn't cause too much of a ruckus, we don't want the Amity to think they're under att—”

A crackling red flare shoots up into the sky beyond the fence—about three miles away from Amity. The soldiers' reaction is immediate as they scramble down the stairs with guns at the ready and head for the unknown threat. Our window opens as the guards at the gate race to the commotion, leaving us free from notice.

Uriah and I shoot off like that flare, racing in perfect unison towards the Amity compound. I can see the light is on upstairs in the barn, a sure sign that Johanna is still awake. We duck into the apple orchard, the tall trees concealing us from view as the familiar scents of home trickle into consciousness. The sharp scent of manure, the sweet floral notes of ripe apples, and the clean air hit me with an unexpected longing I choose to blame on my conversation with Uriah.

I pay no mind to the neighs of displeasure from the horses as we sprint by, disturbing their slumbers. We bound up the stairs to the loft like there's a fire on our tail, fixated on our goal. Johanna startles as we come into view, scurrying out from behind her desk. The petrified expression on her kind face is unfamiliar and I decide instantly that I don't like it.

"Indigo?" She gasps as she takes a step towards me, reaching her hand out to touch my cheek but withdrawing at the last second. An ache blooms in my heart at her clear hesitation, but I remind myself she is only trying to accommodate the customs of my new faction. "What are you doing here? Are you in some sort of trouble? Who is this young man?"

“We don’t have much time to explain, and I’d rather not do it twice.” I plead with her, hoping that our familiarity will grant me some trust. “We need you to gather everyone in the Dome, without alerting the Dauntless at the Fence.”

“Whatever for?”

“We need the Amity to vote on a very important matter and we’re not exactly here on official business.”

She closes her eyes with a heavy sigh, weary and suspicious in a way that breaks my heart. I hoped that my transfer hadn't damaged our relationship, that I could depend on her good will to convince the rest of Amity. Now I wasn't so sure.

“What is this about?”

“Johanna, you know me.” My voice is small as I speak, reaching out to grasp her hands in mine. She allows the gesture, squeezing them as if she wants to never let go. “I would not ask if it wasn’t important.”

She deliberates, eyeing the two of us for any sort of tell that will give our intentions away. For a brief moment I worry she is going to put us on a truck and send us straight back to Max. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she nods and turns to retrieve her lantern.

"Then there isn't a moment to waste."

* * *

The Amity arrive in the Dome with little fanfare, careful to keep their voices low and not draw the attention of the Dauntless at the Fence. Even the children seem to sense the necessity of subtlety, sticking by their parents’ sides and following them to the tables without a sound. Johanna is deliberate in her method, waking those in the dwellings closest to her office first then sending them out to tell the others until it spreads all the way through the faction. By the time we make our way to the Dome, all of Amity sits waiting to hear us out.

Never before have I felt like a stranger in my own home but standing here, tattoos on my skin and a knife at my hip, I feel entirely out of place. A sea of faces—many familiar, some new—look at Uriah and myself with a sympathy I have yet to determine is in our favour or not. I do not know what Johanna told them in order to gather so quickly, but I can only hope it has opened their minds and their hearts.

If my mother is surprised to see me she masks it well with a soft smile and an encouraging nod in my direction. Jax is by her side, the soft candlelight in the room highlighting the simple gold wedding band on his finger. I expect to feel some measure of sorrow when I see the band, but I feel only joy for my mother and her newfound happiness. Because of this I am able to smile a real, genuine smile when he catches my eye.

Johanna steps forward with her arms raised, silencing the chatter that lit up the room as soon as we walked in. Her smile is serene as she addresses the crowd and I envy the ease with which she speaks to the room. I can only hope I will appear even half as confident when it is my turn.

“Friends, I have gathered you tonight at the request of these two Dauntless initiates—”

“Members, actually.” I correct her, ignoring Uriah’s mutter of ‘for now’ from behind me. I don't miss the way her eyes twinkle at my revelation and I begin to feel myself relax, pleased to see that I haven't been completely cast out after my transfer.

“Two members of Dauntless, my apologies. They have come here tonight, asking us to vote on a matter most urgent and secretive. They have assured me that we will face no retaliation from them or their faction if our vote is in the negative. They also wish for me to convey that they are not here in any official capacity and request that their visit is not made known to those outside of Amity. I will now give them the floor to plead their case to you.”

I take a deep breath as I step forward, every eye in the room falling on me. We agreed that it would be best for me to speak, since I understand my former faction far more than Uriah ever could. I regret that decision as my palms begin to sweat and my breathing quickens, the gravity of the situation nearly overwhelming me. My mother catches my eye once more, nodding her head in gentle encouragement. I say a silent prayer to whatever deities there may be and let the words flow from my heart.

“Friends, you know me. I was born among you, I was raised with you, and even though I transferred to a new faction I have not forgotten the values you have taught me over the years. I hope that you will keep this in your minds and in your hearts, for you know that I would never ask you to vote on a matter such as this if it were not of the utmost importance. We came here tonight seeking your consent to arrest the leaders of Erudite and Dauntless.”

The room explodes with voices, questions and resolute rejections flying at me so quick I worry that I’ve turned my former faction against me before I can even begin to plead my case. I turn to Uriah for some sort of assistance but he's distracted, trying to see if the Dauntless at the Fence have noticed the commotion. Johanna steps forward, prepared to silence the crowd once more, but I know that if I do not speak now I will lose them forever.

“Please understand that we do not ask this lightly!” I raise my voice, surprised when the room immediately falls silent. “I understand that it is not in your nature to become involved in matters of conflict. I understand that peace is of the utmost importance to you, and by consenting to this it may disrupt this peace. But I promise you, this peace you feel now is a mirage and it will not last.

“No matter which way you choose to vote on this matter, you cannot avoid conflict for any longer. War is around the corner and this is your _only_ opportunity to put a stop to it before peace is permanently lost. Jeanine Matthews plans to remove the Abnegation from power and take control of the Council—by any means necessary. But she cannot do it alone. So she struck a deal with the leaders of Dauntless and developed a serum that will turn the Dauntless into a mindless army under her complete control. She will force us to march into Abnegation and arrest members of the Council for harbouring Divergents. We will be ordered to arrest them, or shoot them on sight. Divergents will be her scapegoats for the atrocities she will force us to commit. She will leverage this to round them up from all the other factions and use them in horrific experiments that will make death seem like a dream in comparison.

"If you think that Amity will not be the first place she comes after Abnegation then you are _lying_ to yourselves. She does not care that you are peaceful and intend to avoid conflict. She does not care that the Divergents among you may be your parents, your siblings, or your children.” I steadfastly avoid my mother’s gaze, eyes sweeping the room for anyone who seems especially sympathetic. “She does not care that there is no proof that Divergents are a threat to anything but her quest for power. She will kill every last one of you, and anyone who tries to stand in her way. I know that you may find this difficult to believe, but we have brought proof that should be sufficient enough to convince you that what we are saying is true.”

I gesture to Uriah and he steps forward with the box, inserting the key and retrieving the tablet inside. He powers it up and evidence materializes into holographic images hovering above our heads. We have blueprints of the homes in Abnegation, maps of the area surrounding the faction, diagrams of experiments of torture, transcripts and messages detailing the plan, and a report on the effects of the serum. If this does not convince them, then I'm afraid nothing will.

"Where did you get this?" Johanna gasps as her eyes roam the wealth of evidence, her hand over her heart in anguish. A cursory glance around the room reveals the rest of Amity feels the same, expressions of shock and horror clear on their faces.

"We have a friend on the inside." Uriah answers, and my heart flutters at the way he refers to Eric as a friend. "He came to us about a week ago, with a plan and all this evidence. Jeanine lied to him, manipulated him until he was nothing more than a puppet. Once he found out the truth, he knew he had to take her down."

"Who is this friend?" The world comes to a full stop at the sound of my mother's voice. Amity votes on everything as a faction and it must be unanimous. As such, members may ask questions at any point. I cannot recall a time my mother ever asked a question, even before my father died.

"We would prefer to keep his identity unknown in the event that our plan goes awry." Uriah replies smoothly, and I remind myself to thank him for not revealing Eric. "He has done and risked so much for this, we wouldn't want to put a target on his back."

"You mentioned that he found out the truth, and that changed his mind." A man with a small child in his lap speaks, expression weary but not disbelieving. "What exactly is the truth?"

"Jeanine had led him to believe that there were Divergents in his life who had caused him a great deal of pain. In reality, she was the cause of such pain. He spent most of his life believing that they were dangerous, cruel people who were a threat to society. But he grew suspicious, and looked into what Jeanine had told him and discovered it to be a lie."

"What changed his mind?"

"Love." Uriah answers without hesitation and my heart skips a beat. "He fell in love with a Divergent woman, not knowing who she was. Once he knew the truth, he knew that he couldn't let anything happen to her. Whatever his feelings towards Divergents might be, his love for her is so much stronger."

The tense set in my shoulders relaxes as I see many swoon, taken by the notion that love motivated him. The Amity have a deep respect and reverence for love, and this can only help our cause. My mother shoots me a knowing grin and I blush, looking away.

"If we were to agree," Ed, the driver we saw during our visit to the Fence, speaks up from the front, "what is your plan? Can you guarantee no blood shed, or violence?"

"I will not lie, I cannot promise you that there will not be bloodshed." I say, hoping I'm not hurting our case. "But we intend to do everything in our power to prevent it from happening. Jeanine plans to activate the serum in the morning, in six hours to be precise. Unbeknownst to her, we've been giving our faction the antidote for a week now. Her serum is powerless to the amount of antidote the Dauntless have in them. Once her and the other leaders are in the control room, we'll storm the place and arrest everyone inside. Then we'll bring them to Candor for questioning and to await trial."

"What steps are you taking to minimize bloodshed?"

"We'll take out the guards outside of the control room with sedative darts, not bullets. There's a serum inside that will put them to sleep, but it will not harm them. We'll use minimal force when we arrest everyone, and ensure they do not have opportunity to harm themselves either. We need them to stay alive long enough to make it to their trials, they're no good to us dead." Despite this, the room still looks uneasy and my heart sinks. Johanna looks at us with pity, and I feel incredibly small.

"We understand why you want to do this, but Amity cannot condone violence even with the best of intentions. There is no guarantee that Jeanine will disrupt the peace in Amity. We cannot pick sides in conflict, it is not in our nature. I'm very sorry Indigo, but we cannot support this."

Her words are a blow to my system and an aching hurt pulses in my chest. Uriah looks like he may be ill, or cry. He places his hand on my shoulder to comfort me, turning us to leave with our dignity intact but I remain steadfast. I refuse to return to Dauntless and tell Eric, our friends, and myself that we gave up. I cannot give up.

"I was never ashamed to be Amity until now." I spit the words out, my voice sharp with a razor bite to it. The members look surprised, but nowhere near as surprised as Uriah. I can't even look at my mother, but I can sense her gaze on me.

"Indie, I don't know if this is a good idea—"

"The other factions look at you as weak, but I have never once felt that way. I know the kind of strength it requires to be kind and to forgive, especially those who deserves it the least. I know I am asking you to do something you have never done before, but you need to use that strength to do this. There is _nothing_ kind or peaceful about standing by while innocent people are killed by a woman so hellbent on gaining power that she's all but abandoned any kindness that may have been in her to begin with. If you think staying out of this for the sake of the peace will result in anything but war, then you are even bigger fools than the other factions think you to be. Do not be so cruel to reject the opportunity to actually do something to keep the peace in this city. That's not who you are, I _know_ that is not who you are. Please don't prove me wrong."

The Dome falls so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Nobody moves, nobody speaks, and it feels like nobody even breathes. I glance at Johanna, but the shame in her eyes is enough to turn my gaze away. I cannot decipher Uriah's expression, but it appears to be a cross between awe and horror.

"I want to vote." The voice comes from the back, quiet but strong. Jax stands, meeting my gaze with a resolute nod. "I want to vote."

The crowd murmurs, but no one actually says anything. Johanna stares at Jax for a long time as the two of them communicate without words. After what feels like an eternity, she calls for a vote. The room immediately breaks up into sections and the discussion begins. I can see some shaking their heads, others gesturing wildly to defend their position. The Amity are a peaceful people, but their passion makes an appearance every so often. I cannot read the crowd from here, and I bite my lip as I look to Uriah.

We share a look, knowing what we risk if they say no. We will be arrested. We will be questioned. We will be put on trial for treason. We will be sentenced to death. And all the while, Abnegation will be wiped out and innocent people will be dead, tossed away like trash. Then all the Divergents in this city will be rounded up to face a fate worse than death. A fate that could have been prevented if the Amity had just said yes.

"What are they doing?" Uriah asks, gesturing the growing circles of people around the room.

"Amity doesn't have a leader. Everyone votes on everything, and Johanna relays it to the other factions. They discuss it in small groups, come to a consensus, and form a larger group. Then that group debates, before sending up a representative. This way, everyone has a say and the consequences of their actions fall on everyone's shoulders."

"That's beautiful." He smiles, and I cannot keep the surprise off my face. "They all have a voice, and they all get an equal vote which means their voices matter. It makes them care."

"It does." I agree, watching my mother and Jax speak in their groups. I catch her eye, allowing myself to feel hope as she smiles. "It makes them kind."

After a few more minutes of deliberation, the six representatives make their way up to the front. They stand in a neat line before Johanna, and I try to decipher their vote from their expressions but fail. Harmony—my mother's midwife—stands closest to me and as I go down the line I realize each one represents a different stage of my life in Amity. Michael cared for the children not old enough for school, and often plied me with extra slices of bread. Rose led my father's harvest group and was the first one to deliver condolences after his death. Annie was the nurse who completed my mother's post-Erudite evaluations. Skylar was my first crush, a boy a year older than me whose eyes were as blue as the sky. Then finally Jax at the end, his wedding band the final seal on my life in Amity.

"Representatives will case their vote based upon the consensus of their group. They will vote either yes or no, and they may not abstain from voting. The vote must be unanimous, or else the decision is in the negative. Harmony, you may begin."

There is an invisible hand wrapped around my heart, squeezing the organ in a vice grip as I wait for Harmony to speak. I don't even notice that I've grabbed Uriah's hand until he squeezes my own, reminding me I am not alone. No matter what happens, I am not alone.

"Yes." She says, not a moment too soon. "There is no kindness in allowing harm."

"We vote yes." Michael echoes. "Love guided your friend, and so it guides us."

"Absolutely." Rose affirms, her eyes sweeping over the faction. "We cannot preach peace to the other factions if we are willing to watch it fall away."

"Yes." Annie nods. "Absolutely yes."

"We are better than this." Skylar reminds everyone, looking me directly in the eye as he speaks. "We support you."

Soon, all that remains is Jax.

"The desire for peace is not an excuse to be complacent in allowing it to be stolen from others. We vote yes."

"Amity gives their consent." Johanna tells us, a tear in her eye as she speaks. I blink back my own tears, noticing that even Uriah looks a bit misty-eyed. "We stand behind you, completely."


End file.
